


Psycho Pass: Until Death...Do Us Part?

by SoelleKhiss



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Anime, F/M, Fanfiction, Phantom of the Opera tribute, Psychopass, Romance, TheHighwayman, ghost story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 15:27:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13707291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoelleKhiss/pseuds/SoelleKhiss
Summary: “Death is inevitable. Every rose withers, then dies, and fades away like dust, but never true love.” A gruesome death and a series of alarming mishaps and misfortunes have plagued the Kurouma Theatre company and their most recent stage production. MWPSB Division 1 is called in to investigate. Was it murder? More importantly, how do you apprehend a suspect who has been dead for over 300 years?2018 WINNER OF THE FANFICTION GENRE OF THE ONE MILLION PROJECT[This work is complete.]





	1. ACT 1

_Lying on his stomach, eyes blurry with sleep, Kurnan crawled to the edge of the bed on Asura’s side and laid his head in her lap. The fine satin of her nightgown felt soft against his skin as he rubbed his cheek against her thigh._

“ _Are you humming that sad song again?” Asura Rai ran her delicate fingers through his tousled black hair and peered down into his face with a smile._

“ _It’s a love song,” he corrected her._

_“It’s still sad.”_

_“Some love songs are sad. It can’t be helped.” Eyes closed, he reveled in the warmth of her body and the flawlessness of her pale skin. As she combed her hair, the long black tresses fell over her shoulder and caressed the back of his neck._

_Asura brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. Smelling like roses, her fingers lingered on his face as if she were committing it to memory through her touch. “Where do you go when you close your eyes?”_

Enforcer Shinya Kogami was awakened from the dream by fingers gently running through his hair. The tousled black forelock covering his eyes was slick with sweat and clung to his feverish cheeks and forehead. Disoriented by the abrupt awakening, he blinked rapidly through his confusion, but was unable to remember his location. The back of his throat felt raw as if he had been shouting for an extended period of time. He tried to swallow, but had difficulty.

With his gray coat draped over his shoulder like a blanket, he was lying on his side. Despite the warmth it provided, Kogami shivered restlessly. His entire body ached, every muscle in rebellion, and he was having trouble breathing through his nose.

_Strange_. The pungent scent of roses came, unhindered, through his nostrils. For only a moment, his sinuses were clear, and then just as quickly, they were fully closed up again. The dull pressure of clogged sinuses created an itchy sensation in his head that he could not scratch, and he groaned, feeling quite miserable. Perplexed by his whereabouts, he focused his attention on Inspector Akane Tsunemori who was kneeling beside him.

Despite the concern in her face, she offered him a pleasant smile. “What was that song you were humming?”

“I was humming?”

“You must have been dreaming.” Akane’s smile broadened. “And she must have been very pretty.”

Kogami frowned. He was not in the mood for even the slightest levity. “I don’t remember.” 

Swallowing with difficulty, Kogami finally recognized where he was. The MWPSB had dispatched Division 1 to investigate an incident at a prominent, local theater. While his colleagues were inside the building, he was left behind, asleep on the padded seat in the back of the paddy wagon.

Kogami slowly sat up with Akane’s support. Holding his head in his hands, he rested his elbows on his thighs and fought to keep down what little food there was in his belly. He was feeling much weaker than he wanted to admit and wasn’t certain he would have accomplished a simple task like sitting upright without her help.

Akane brushed a damp lock of hair from his feverish face. “You look terrible.”

“A consequence of breaking your fall, Inspector.” Kogami squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them until they were red and irritated.

“Me falling on you may have injured your back, but had nothing to do with giving you a head cold.” 

“No more desserts for you. Not sure I can handle it.” He pressed his fingers into the acutely inflamed sinuses on both sides of his nose.

“Clearly your sense of humor hasn’t been affected.”

“Was I being funny?”

“Kogami, I’m a little worried about you,” Akane said, ignoring his taunt. She tried to get him to raise his head, but to no avail. The stubborn Enforcer listlessly avoided her touch and pulled away. “Ginoza made a mistake signing you out of medical.” Pushing his hand away, she forced him to raise his head and examined his eyes. “Did Dr. Iseya give you some medication? Your pupils are pinned.”

“Muscle relaxant for my back. All thanks to you. And something for my cold.” Kogami sat back, breathing through his mouth, and laid his head against the headrest.

“You look like you can barely keep your eyes open.”

“It’s a challenge. Is Ginoza looking for me?”

“Not yet. I left you out here to sleep, but Kagari heard you singing in your sleep.” Akane chuckled as she draped the gray jacket over his shoulders. “He got worried and called me. Maybe you should come inside, so I can keep an eye on you.”

Kogami saw movement just outside the rear of the wagon. Gulping audibly, Kagari quickly stepped out of his view.

“Don’t be mad at him,” Akane scolded. “He was worried, and now I can see why.” She stood up and held her hands out to him. “Come on, let’s get you inside. You’ll be more comfortable in there.”

“What’s the case?”

“We’re still not sure what we’re dealing with, but it seems routine.”

Kogami ignored her hands and stood up under his own effort to prove to himself that he could. Chilled to the bone, he shrugged into his gray jacket and zipped it closed all the way up to the neck. It didn’t seem unusually cold outside, but he was freezing. Struggling to feel the tips of his fingers, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a pack of cigarettes.

“Because that’s a good idea, right?” Akane took the cigarette from his lips.

Anger brought clarity. Short tempered due to ill-health, Kogami snatched the cigarette from her hand. “Allow me some small comfort.” He quickly lit the cigarette before she could reclaim it.

The caustic smoke burned as it rolled across the raw tissue in the back of his throat. Kogami choked violently, staggering to the back of the wagon for fresh air. He coughed in convulsive fits that made every muscle in his body spasm in pain. Unable to catch his breath, he stumbled from the back of the paddy wagon, lost his balance, and nearly fell face first on the curb. 

Kagari caught him before he could hit the ground. “Easy, Ko. Jeez, can’t believe Inspector Ginoza insisted on bringing you along.”

“That’ll be enough of that,” Akane said. She snatched the cigarette from his hand and threw it down in the street where she crushed it out.

Too busy coughing and gasping for breath, Kogami leaned helplessly against Kagari. He had neither the will nor the strength to challenge either of them. As the burning in his throat subsided, he forced himself to take slow, deep breaths through his mouth. Too weak to stand any longer, he dropped to one knee on the pavement. Kagari clung to his jacket to hold him in an upright position.

“Oh, this isn’t good,” Kagari said. “Akane, this isn’t right. I know we’re just latent criminals with few rights, but this is cruel to drag him out here in this condition. Ginoza’s gone too far this time.”

Hands on Kogami’s shoulders, Akane wavered with indecision. “Maybe I should call for a wagon to come pick him up and take him back to headquarters.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Kogami said. He winced, hearing the wheezing in his voice. Feebly shoving Kagari away, he stood up. Though stooped at the waist, balancing over his knees, he eventually straightened, but not without some effort. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine,” Kagari said. “Since when did you start singing in your sleep?”

“I was dreaming.”

Scratching the back of his head, Kagari grinned impishly. “Did that dream include Akane in a maid’s outfit—” He cut himself off immediately when the veteran Enforcer’s malevolent gaze fell across him. “I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Funny,” Kogami said, “I thought you were trying to end up in the infirmary with me when we do get back to headquarters.”

“Kogami! Just because you’re not feeling well doesn’t give you the right to threaten Kagari. He was just concerned about you.”

“Like I said, I’m fine.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he sighed and let his head fall back onto his shoulders. He was perspiring heavily and felt the beads of sweat rolling across his skin. “Are we going to stand out here all day or go inside?”

Akane rolled her eyes. “You really are impossible.”

“I try my best.”

“Come on, Kagari.”

Wary of being in Kogami’s forward field of vision, especially when the Enforcer was in a bad mood, Kagari bowed and extended his hand toward the theater entrance. “After you.”

# # # #

The latest MWPSB case had brought Division 1 downtown to an upscale arts district near the city center. Nestled between a museum dedicated to natural history and a modern art gallery, the Kurouma Theatre stood out on the street with its mahogany facade and crimson doors. Kogami was left with the impression that it had simply been carved from a single piece of granite. Burnished gold door handles and doorways led to a dimly illuminated vestibule with blue lights and a mosaic tile floor that depicted the deep ocean, complete with waves, colorful, saltwater fish, and coral. 

The narrow girth of the vestibule opened into a large foyer with a coatroom, umbrella stands, and elegant granite counters where patrons could purchase merchandise or refreshments before the show. Much like the exterior front of the theater, the interior was also black with gold and crimson accents throughout the semi-circular room. 

Preserved and protected behind security glass, relics from the theater’s storied past lined the walls. Mounted bronze plaques beside each display explained the artifacts and their unique connection with the theater. Like honor-bound sentinels, life-sized mannequins wearing Gosuko armor from the late 16th century stood vigil in the chamber. The flamboyant red armor was a stark reminder of a more decadent, volatile time, well before the Sybil System was in place.

“Your interest in the theater’s history is delightful, Mr. Masaoka. It’s rare that I get to share the full breadth of this company’s diverse history with anyone outside of investors or museum tours when the company is on holiday.”

“It’s always a pleasure to see places like this still in business,” Tomomi Masaoka said. “How long have you run the place, Director Nagano?”

“I was named director when my father retired ten years ago, but the Kurouma Theatre has been in operation under my family name for over 300 years. You might say theater is in my blood.” Dressed in a simple business suit vest and pants, Nagano rolled up his sleeves and then tied back his silver hair in a ponytail. “My ancestor, Daiko Nagano originally purchased the theater, which was nothing more than an inn and taproom. He later converted it into a playhouse for stage work. Believe it or not, he traded a black horse to buy the deed. That’s how the theater got its name.”

“You don’t say,” Masaoka said. Discerning eyes swept the length of the walls and the artifacts on public display.

“His daughter, Asura Rai Nagano, was the lead actress for most of the productions. She was in love with a young playwright named Kurnan Kazuya, who lived at the inn and played piano for the productions. He also coordinated the music for all of the theater’s shows. Here’s an original playbill, hand drawn from that era.”

The back of the program showed a young man and woman bowing to an appreciative audience. Dressed in a black waist coat of the era, Kazuya carried a French-cocked hat beneath his arm. Instead of regarding the audience, he was looking at the young woman beside him, who was dressed in a simple white gown. Her long black hair was tied back with a ribbon woven into a prominent love knot.

“Nice looking couple,” Masaoka said. Scrutinizing the picture, he scratched the side of his head. “You know, she looks a lot like—“

“Yes,” Nagano whispered, “the resemblance to your Inspector Tsunemori is astonishing, don’t you think?”

“And Kazuya looks like...” Masaoka paused, noticing that Kogami had rejoined them.“Well, speak of the devil himself.”

“Thanks, pops. The feeling’s mutual.” As he walked by, Kogami stared at the playbill at the center of their attention. Preserved behind tempered glass, its crinkled pages showed only minimal signs of decay. The image rendered appeared as fresh as it might have on the day it was printed. The resemblance between Kazuya and himself was uncanny, even he had to admit. It was as if he was staring into a mirror.

“Good, you’re awake,” Inspector Nobuchika Ginoza said. “You certainly slept long enough.”

“Not long enough for you to solve this case without me,” Kogami said. “We’re still here. What’s it been? An hour?” Ignoring the Senior Inspector, he hunched his shoulders and stood in the shadowy alcove in front of the main auditorium doors.

“Is it true that Kazuya was a highwayman?” Yayoi Kunizaka asked. She inspected her reflection in the glass and straightened her tie.

“The rumors about Kazuya are true,” Nagano said. “It’s how my ancestor was able to keep this theater operating during some of the greater hardships of that time period.”

“What can you tell us about the Kurouma Curse?” Yayoi asked. “Is there truth to that, too?”

Taken aback by the bold question, Nagano maintained his smile with deliberate effort. “A shameless bit of notoriety that neither my family nor my company can escape. No matter how hard I try.”

“I was unaware of any curse,” said Ginoza. “I would think that kind of talk would affect your Sybil authorizations. If the public was concerned about a curse, their psycho passes could become clouded.”

“All of our productions are well within the boundaries of good taste, Inspector Ginoza, as well as the mandates of the Sybil System.” The director’s friendly face fell away and was replaced with a stern, taciturn expression. His transformation reminded Kogami of the theater masks representing comedy and tragedy.

“Is that so?” Ginoza crossed his arms over his chest.

“The Kurouma curse grew out of the tragedy that claimed the lives of Asura Rai and Kazuya. Misfortune comes to anyone who tries to produce the one and only play that Kazuya wrote before his death. Any time the piece goes into production, some mayhem ensues. Stage equipment fails. Fires start. Props go missing. Minor mishaps that would prevent the show from going on.”

“I don’t exactly call what happened to your piano player a minor mishap, Director Nagano. The man is being treated for internal injuries after falling from the piano platform,” Ginoza said. “You and your company claim there was no one else with him at the time.” Activating his wristcom, he scanned the updated medical reports and forwarded them to the other members of Division 1.

“Inspector Ginoza, I was standing down in the orchestra pit with my tech crew, while Yoshi was running through a few numbers with our lead actress. There was no one near the platform.”

“Members of your tech crew report a spike in temperature about the time the accident occurred. One of them even attributed the accident to Gorou. Care to explain?” Ginoza deactivated the holo and met the director’s eyes with cold skepticism.

“Gorou’s been dead over 300 years, Inspector. He was the village blacksmith and lived in the community. While respected, he was not well liked due to his heavy hand with animals and people.”

Hands behind her back, Akane read the inscription beneath a metal etching of the theater from the time period. “This etching was donated to the playhouse by Gorou.” 

“At the time, he was one of their best patrons, but his motives were far more sinister than altruistic, ” Nagano said. “He was in love with the Asura Rai, but she had eyes for another.”

“The piano player,” Masaoka said with a grin. “Gets the ladies every time.”

“Kazuya was a brilliant pianist, one of the best of his time, if not _the_ best. He was destined for greater things, but fate had other designs.”

“What happened to them?” Akane asked.

“This is one of those rare moments, where life imitates art,” Nagano replied. “It’s believed that Gorou reported Kazuya to the Emperor’s soldiers. They came to the playhouse in the middle of the night while he was out on a robbery. Asura Rai was waiting for him at their bedroom window, just above this chamber.” He pointed to the level above them. “The soldiers held Daiko and Asura hostage in their own home. They toyed with her, tied her up to her bed, and then bound a musket to her breast, forcing her to watch through the window for Kazuya to return.”

“That’s awful,” Akane said.

“Indeed, because by the time she heard her lover’s horse approaching,” Nagano said, “she had worked her hand to the trigger of that musket and pulled it to warn him of the danger. Not knowing what had happened to his love, Kazuya rode away into the night unaware that she was dead. But when he got word of the tragedy the next morning, he rode back to the playhouse to exact revenge. The soldiers shot him down just a few yards from the entrance of this building, and he died in the street like a common dog.”

“A fitting end for a criminal,” Ginoza said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“That’s not where the tragedy ends,” Nagano said. He pointed to the detailed etching. “Gorou’s betrayal was meant to get Kazuya out of the way, so that he could have Asura Rai for himself. Her death and his guilt reportedly drove him mad. He broke into the theater three days after the tragedy and set fire to it with hot coals from his own forge. Once the inn was consumed in flames, he hung himself from the rafters above the stage.”

“A vengeful phantom?” Kagari slapped his hands together abruptly, causing Akane to jump. “This is a great ghost story!“

“And a curse that has plagued my family for ten generations. Father to son, we’ve tried to break it unsuccessfully. But that, my friends, is the heart of theater, where reality blends with illusion, and illusions become reality.” Nagano pushed open the auditorium doors and extended his hands to either side as he led them into the chamber. “And this is where the magic happens. Welcome to the heart of the Kurouma Theatre.”

The theatrical chamber was colossal with four sections of seats that were divided and angled to prove the best possible view for audience goers. A wide center aisle with white carpeting dividing the room with two smaller, parallel aisles that further divided the seating sections. 

Expensive, brown leather seats were arranged on both sides of the main aisle. The smaller wings were comprised of cloth seats, beige in color. Above the polished, black granite floors and its carpeted walkways, the ceiling was painted a deep blue, the imitation of a night sky depicted with stars. Kogami wondered if it was a real ceiling mural or a hologram. 

In the center of it was a six-foot deep, inverted well, and suspended within it was an elaborate crystal chandelier. The extravagant fixture was certainly real, he surmised, because of the way the light refracted from the quartz and onto the wall.

“This place is like the Coliseum in Rome!” Kagari said in awe. “How many seats?”

“We can hold 1,500, about 900 here on the first level, 400 on the second level, and another 200 in the balconies.” Nagano grinned with pride. “A far cry from a humble inn with an adjoining tap house and a stage, wouldn’t you say?”

“Director Nagano,” Ginoza said. “I’m certain there is a logical explanation for what’s been happening here the last few weeks. Once we can get your company out of the building, we can do a thorough examination of the building and find evidence that will lead to a solid reason for the trouble and bring resolution.”

“That won’t be possible, Inspector Ginoza,” Nagano said sternly. “I’m five days from opening night on a production plagued by mishap after mishap. My company cannot miss anymore rehearsal time. You’ll need to conduct your investigation around our activities. I can’t possibly send the troupe home without rehearsing.”

“Director Nagano,” Ginoza protested.

“No, Inspector, perhaps Mr. Kurosawa was not clear when he petitioned the MWPSB for assistance. The show will go on. The show _must_ go on. Are we clear?”

“Understood,” Ginoza relented. “Kagari and Kunizaka, unload the necessary equipment we need and get a surveillance hub set up. With the exception of this one, leave the drones outside. I think we can handle this on our own. Enforcer Masaoka, you’re with me. We’ll see what we can find backstage and in the orchestra pit. Inspector Tsunemori?”

“Sir!”

“Take Kogami. You can start by investigating where the piano player fell during the rehearsal this morning. Keep your Dominators on you at all times.”

The drone’s inner mechanisms whirred, and with the hissing of pressurized air, it opened its lid to reveal an arsenal of Dominators. Kogami reached for his weapon. “ _Dominator Portable Psychological Diagnosis and Suppression System has been activated. User authentication: Enforcer Shinya Kogami. Affiliation: Public Safety Bureau, Criminal Investigation Department. Dominator usage approval confirmed. You are a valid user_.”

“Keep your wits about you,” Ginoza said in parting. “Someone clearly doesn’t want this production to happen and will do anything to prevent it.”

Not waiting for Akane to give the word, Kogami started down the center aisle and made his way to a raised platform just downstage. The riser was nearly ten feet tall and towered above the orchestra pit as well as the audience. It was a place of prominence that allowed the piano player to have an unhindered view of the stage, the pit, and the main seating areas in the auditorium. 

Scanning the file that Ginoza had sent them about the accident, Kogami struggled to focus himself and clear his head for deductive reasoning. It was bad enough that every muscle in his body felt as if he had run a marathon, but now his head joined the rebellion. Weary of seeing double, he sat down at the piano and closed his eyes. Holding his head in his hands, he leaned over the keyboard of the piano and prayed for some relief to his misery. 

“The eyewitness statements say that the piano player became startled, but by what, they don’t know,” Akane said. “There’s plenty of room here.” She walked the circumference of the riser. “What do you think happened?”

“There’s nothing to find here,” Kogami whispered. “Ginoza sent us here to keep us, _me_ , out of the way.”

“You make it sound like he has it out for us, well, _you_.”

“He does. Ever since I texted that picture of us from Los Angeles, he’s been holding a grudge. It’s one of his better qualities.”

“Do you regret sending it?”

“No, and I’d do it again.” Desperate to clear his nostrils, Kogami sniffed. He needed a tissue and a quiet place to unburden his sinuses, if only for a few minutes. “The only reports available about this incident come from distracted eyewitnesses. The victim isn’t even conscious yet to tell his side of the story. This is busy work. Ginoza’s idea of penance.” He felt Akane’s hands at his shoulders. She said nothing, but there was no need. She was there for him and to support him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m not myself.” Massaging his temples, he paused just long enough to run his fingers over her hand. “I just can’t seem to get ahold of myself.”

“It’s understandable. You don’t feel well. Don’t apologize.” 

Without warning, Kogami sneezed. It was a sudden, violent explosion that served only to redouble his misery by increasing the pressure in his already inflamed sinuses. Burying his face in his hands, he groaned and waited until his vision returned.

Akane leaned over his shoulder and pressed one of the ivory keys. The high-pitched note lingered in the air of the empty auditorium. “I always wanted to learn to play piano. Didn’t you tell Luda that you could play?”

“I did.”

“Teach me. Something simple obviously.”

Kogami craned his neck to look up at her with a coy smile, then he slid over to the right side of the bench so that she could sit down next to him. “Can you read music?”

“No. Does that really matter?”

“It helps,” Kogami said, laughing softly. “For you, we’re going to try and play a very simple version of _Greensleeves_.”

“The song that Henry the VIII wrote for his wife?”

Astonished that she knew the song’s history, Kogami looked down at her in surprise. “That’s a myth. The song is really about a prostitute.”

“What? Kogami, what are you trying to suggest?”

“Relax, I’m kidding. Though there is some speculation that the song is about a promiscuous woman.” He grinned at her and held his hands over the keys to model for her. “Here, give this a try.” Kogami played the first few notes of the song and paused as Akane made an honest attempt to follow his example. “Not bad, for your first try, Inspector.”

“Really?”

Kogami feigned a smile, but didn’t answer. The painful throbbing in his head had moved behind his eyes. “Let’s give it another shot.” 

Though she could imitate the movements, Akane lacked the experience to truly play the song as it was intended. Kogami felt sorry for her, as he would for any novice. For the beginner, there were only the mechanics. The soul of the music came later when the heart of the musician had mastered the mechanics. He winced as she hit the wrong note, and the discordant key ruined even the mechanics of her attempt.

“This is hopeless,” Akane said.

“Not really,” Kogami replied. “With a little time, a bit of patience, and a _lot_ of practice, you could be a relatively decent pianist.”

“You play something.” She scanned the sheet music on the pedestal in front of them. “Can you play any of these?”

It was rare to see paper music sheets used by modern-day musicians. _Perhaps there was hope for society_ , Kogami thought, _hidden among its artists_. He examined the bundle of printed compositions.

“What about this one?”

“ _Always With You,_ ” He read the title. Running his fingers over the music, Kogami read over the piece and marked the notes to memory in order to familiarize himself with the piece before playing it. The music seemed vaguely familiar to him, but he could not place where he might have encountered it. Placing his fingers over the keys, he began to play.

The composition was unhurried, simple, and yet there was a complexity of unrestrained passion that was evoked in each note and with every bar. Initially, Kogami played mechanically to comply with Akane’s request, but as he progressed into the heart of the music, he was inexplicably drawn into it. The composition was an elegy to love—a lost love. At the conclusion, Kogami felt emotionally exhausted.

Unexpected applause echoed through the auditorium and startled the Enforcer. He hadn’t noticed, but while he was playing, the entirety of the Kurouma Theatre company, actors and stagehands, had come out of their dressing rooms and offices to listen. In various stages of costume or street clothes, they clapped from the stage, the first-floor perimeter, as well as the second- and third-story balconies. 

Director Nagano swaggered down the center aisle, clapping as he walked toward the piano platform. “I don’t know who you are, but that was exceptional work. Bravo!” He clapped harder and bowed his head with admiration and approval. Following his lead, the rest of the company interjected shouts of bravo.

“That’s annoying,” Kogami whispered. He turned to Akane and found her in tears. “W-why are you crying?”

“T-that was s-so beautiful. Kogami, it was so, so sad, and yet wonderful at the same time.” Burying her face in her hands, she laid her head on his shoulder and wept.

Kogami rolled his eyes and tried to comfort her. Ginoza was glaring at them from the front of the stage. “Stop that. You’re going to get us both in trouble.”

“Inspector Ginoza,” Mr. Nagano said, “I take it that this gentlemen is a subordinate?”

“Yes, he’s an Enforcer. Why do you ask?”

“I was planning to play the piano myself for the rehearsals, but that will add at least three hours to the schedule.” Director Nagano put his hands on his hips and grinned. “You want my people out of this theater, so that your people can get to work. I need my troupe to rehearse before they leave. If that Enforcer will play the piano, we can be out of your hair in just over an hour.”

Masaoka pursed his lips and nodded his head at Ginoza. “Not a bad idea, Inspector. If I recall correctly, Kogami was quite the pianist in high school, wasn’t he?”

“Not if my life depended on it, pops,” Kogami said. “I won’t do it.” He buried his head in his hands. His temples were throbbing so violently that he felt nauseous.

“Inspector, if your man can play the last six songs for the last six scenes, I’ll have my people vacate the premises immediately, leaving you in peace.”

“He’ll do it.” Ginoza looked over at the piano platform. “Inspector Tsunemori, a word?”

Feeling faint, Kogami groaned and let his head fall to the piano keys with a discordant pinging of notes and chords. “This is a nightmare.”

Kagari jogged up the platform steps and playfully drummed his hands across Kogami’s back and shoulders before throwing himself down on the bench next to him. “Inspector Ginoza’s been trying to get Nagano to evacuate this theater all morning. Nice work, Ko.” Grinning with mischief in his eyes, he ran his fingers over the piano keys near Kogami’s ears until the veteran slapped his hand away.

“Can’t believe the MWPSB is here investigating a ghost story? Since when did we become ghost hunters?”

Kagari unholstered his Dominator and pointed it toward the back of the theater. “Wouldn’t that be awesome! Just like those banned movies from the 20th century. I totally dig that!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It takes a lot of weight to bring a fully-sanctioned MWPSB investigation onto a case this thin.”

“Thin, huh? It was the piano player today, and he got lucky. He’ll live to play another day. Last week, a standby was killed on stage when one of the lights came loose and fell on her. Turns out that the actress who was supposed to be on stage that day was Mr. Kurosawa’s daughter. You remember Mr. Kurosawa, don’t you?”

“Don’t start, Kagari, or you’re going to need that Dominator.” Kogami coughed into his hand until tears came to the corner of his eyes. His sides were sore from the wracking cough.

Kagari laughed off the threat. “The tech crew tells me the dead standby was not doing a very good job and that her death was a punishment from the phantom.”

“Kagari?” Kogami leaned heavily into his hands. “Just stop talking.”

Eavesdropping on the Inspectors, Kogami raised his head above the keyboard just enough to see Akane talking with their superior. “I need these people out of here before anything else can happen to them,” Ginoza said. “Chief Kasei was quite adamant about that. Kogami needs to do this.”

“That’s not a good idea. He’s really not feeling well,” she protested. “It was a mistake bringing him—”

“Perhaps I’m not being clear enough, Inspector Tsunemori.” Ginoza crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back while glaring at her.

“Do you think that’s wise, Inspector?” Masaoka asked. “Kogami can be a handful on his best day. Might be asking for trouble.”

“He can rest after the rehearsal,” Mr. Nagano interjected. “There’s a couch in my office here on the first level. He’ll be quite comfortable, and you’re welcome to anything you find in my refrigerator or the theater kitchen. Please, just make him play.”

“Inspector Tsunemori?” Ginoza peered down at her from over the rim of his eyeglasses.

Akane relented beneath his fierce gaze. “He’ll do it if I ask him.” Then returning the Senior Inspector’s fierce gaze, she said, “When it’s over, Kogami is going back to headquarters.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Inspector Ginoza!”

“Director Nagano’s offer is too kind. When the rehearsal is over, Kogami can rest in his office while we complete the investigation.”

“Excellent!” Nagano exclaimed. He turned to the tech crew and signaled for them to begin setting up the stage. 

“Kagari,” Ginoza called. “Get down here and help Kunizaka set up the surveillance equipment.”

Nagano followed Akane back to the piano platform. “Mr. Kogami, is it? Everything you’ll need for the fourth and fifth acts is in my office. If you will, please follow me.”

Nagano’s spacious office reminded Kogami more of a college dorm room during exams than the office of a professional. Discarded clothes were carelessly strewn about the floor and furniture. Costumes, many draped in dry cleaning paper, were hanging from pictures and alcoves in the walls. Empty food containers were piled up on the desk and overflowed from the trash.

With an embarrassed smile, Director Nagano darted through the room to tidy up as best he could. “Forgive me. This is the result of being married to the job,” he said. 

“Trying to run a successful theater production company, especially with all your recent troubles, cannot be easy,” Akane said. “I can’t imagine the stress you must be under.” 

“I assure you, Inspector Tsunemori, my psycho pass is checked monthly, and I adhere to a strict regimen of mental care supplements.” 

“Smooth move, Inspector,” Kogami whispered under his breath. “Way to shame the man under his own roof.” He scanned the lit alcoves in the office, which held artifacts similar to those in the antechamber beyond the main auditorium. The Enforcer’s attention was drawn to a rapier cradled in crimson velvet within a sealed glass container. The rapier was in meticulous condition except for a few lines of tarnish on the blade closest to the haft. “This was Kurnan Kazuya‘s sword?”

“Indeed, it was, Mr. Kogami,” Nagano replied. “Given to my many times great grandfather as Kurnan lay dying in the road. His final words to my ancestor were: ‘ _I go with you._ ’” Admiring the blade, the director stood beside Kogami. “It was then, at least in my mind, the Kurouma Curse was born. Out of a need to comfort a dying man or out of his guilt for the death of his daughter, my ancestor swore to Kazuya that he would produce his play for the world to see.”

“And after 300 years,” Akane said, “it’s never been brought to the stage?”

“No,” Nagano replied sadly. “Any attempt has been met with incidents that grew into disasters the closer they got to opening night.”

“What if Kazuya never intended for the play to be produced?”

“I do believe in ghosts, Mr. Kogami, but I am undeterred to bring this production to fruition. I have one son, and unlike my predecessors, I will not hand over this curse to him. So it falls to me to make good on an old debt. Ah, here we are. Do you have a preference for digital or paper sheet music, sir?”

“Paper, if you don’t mind,” Kogami replied. 

“A traditionalist! Always a pleasure to see someone who appreciates the finer arts of what has been and gone.” Nagano rearranged the sheet music in the proper order and handed it to Kogami. “I cannot thank you enough. You’re doing me not only a great service, but a great honor.”

“Are these from Kazuya’s original sheet music?”

“Meticulously scanned from the originals before they were sealed into glass displays to preserve them.” Nagano stepped into the center of his office and beckoned for Akane and Kogami to join him. “The entire score and the lyrics were rescued from the fire set by Gorou and passed down from one family member to another. They eventually came to my great-grandfather who had them carefully preserved along with other relics that survived the fire. These items have been on display ever since the theater was renovated,”

“It’s so fascinating, but so sad at the same time,” Akane said. “What is the name of Kazuya’s play?”

“ _Until Death...Do Us Part?_ And yes, that’s with a question mark,” Nagano said with a playful wink. “Kazuya was not only rumored to be a highwayman, but a sharp-witted satirist as well. The play itself is a stinging reproach of the Emperor and the heavy tariffs imposed on the citizens of the empire, but it’s also a testament of his love for Asura Rai Nagano. If I have my way, the world will know of that love for generations to come.” 

“A noble goal,” Akane said.

Nagano clasped his hands behind his back and rocked back and forth on his feet. “You should be all set, Mr. Kogami. Follow my cues, and we’ll get through this, hopefully, without further incident.”

“Unless your phantom takes exception to my playing, right?”

Nagano smiled at Kogami. “As they say in the business, break a leg. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“A caramel latte with an extra shot of caramel and whipped cream,” Kogami said.

“Miss Kobuto!” Nagano called.

“Yes, Director Nagano,” said a young woman. Dressed in a simple black dress, she came to the door and bowed respectfully to Akane and Kogami.

“Please get Mr. Kogami a caramel latte with an extra shot of caramel and whipped cream. Inspector Tsunemori?”

“Oh no, no thank you. Nothing for me,” Akane said, glaring at Kogami. “Smooth move, Enforcer,” she mocked him.

“I was kidding,” Kogami whispered. He flinched as Akane jammed her fingers into his ribs.

“Right away, Mr. Nagano.” The receptionist bowed and left the room.

“Are you ready for your theatrical debut, Mr. Kogami?” Nagano asked.

“Doesn’t look like I have much of a choice,” Kogami said. He tried to keep his distance from Akane.

“No, you don’t. For a caramel latte with an extra shot of caramel and whipped cream, you’re now on the clock.” Akane glared at him, taking the Enforcer by the sleeve, and leading him out of the office.


	2. ACT 2

The forced rehearsal was not unlike an execution from the days of the gallows: the prisoner, under guard, standing with an executioner, and the executor of the death warrant watching on. If he had the energy, Kogami might have laughed at himself for the morbid thought because his analogy was not far from wrong. 

Director Nagano was a stern perfectionist and demanded the best possible performance from his players and tech crew. The slightest error was cause to scrap the scene and begin again from the top. What was promised to be an hour, stretched into an arduous 90 minutes. Throughout the grueling rehearsal, Kogami sat at the piano with Akane standing over him as he played the various numbers.

Watching on from the orchestra pit, Ginoza observed, occasionally stepping away to answer an alert on his wristcom. He was living up to the shepherd namesake given to MWPSB Inspectors, as he carefully organized the hounds and rallied them to their purpose. To keep the troupe safe from harm, Masaoka, Kagari, and Kunizaka patrolled backstage, the dressing rooms, and any adjoining area. The alerts came from them making quick, intermittent reports about the activity in their vicinity.

The music for _Until Death...Do Us Part?_ had a complex foundation that required more concentration than Kogami had anticipated. Though he briefly studied the music beforehand, he initially found himself struggling to reach beyond the mechanics to the heart of the compositions. After playing the first few bars, those misgivings faded away, and he could not recall why he had hesitated. By the later bars, he wondered why he had any misgivings at all. Playing the music became second nature to him like slipping into a favorite pair of pajamas on a winter day.

The strangely familiar melodies comforted him. While he played, the misery of his cold was forgotten. Kazuya was a musical genius, as Nagano claimed, who had embedded his wit into the context of a story that was a scathing political rebuke on the surface, as well as powerful validation of a love fated to defy time and even death itself. As soon as he hit the final note, he experienced a profound regret and wanted nothing more than to hear the director’s cue to go back to the beginning.

“Again, bravo, Mr. Kogami!” Director Nagano shouted. He stepped from behind the curtain and walked to the right side of the stage, which put him almost at eye level with the Enforcer. “Exceptional playing. I’m hiring a new piano player, if your interested. The Kurouma Theatre Company is in your debt.” He bowed deeply to show his appreciation. “This is the first time that we have rehearsed and suffered no mishaps. Not even a light flickered.” He smiled graciously. “Your coming was fortuitous. Perhaps your exceptional playing has broken the curse.”

“Director Nagano,” Ginoza said, glancing at his wristcom. “If your rehearsal is done, I would like for your company to begin leaving the building.”

“As we agreed, Inspector.” Nagano clapped his hands vigorously. “And that, people, is our cue! Be here tomorrow morning 8:00 sharp for a run-through!” Clasping his hands together, Nagano regarded Ginoza with a smile. “Fifteen minutes, Inspector, and the house and the entirety of this theater will be yours.” He pointed to the MWPSB official. “And then _you_ shall be the Director.”

“Kunizaka,” Ginoza said, “prep the surveillance equipment. Full scans. Masaoka and Kagari, sweep the backstage and dressing rooms again. Make certain everyone leaves the building.”

Folding his hands in front of him, Director Nagano sank down on his haunches. “So, Mr. Kogami, what do you think of Kazuya’s work?”

Kogami propped his weight on his elbows and leaned against the piano. Despite his usual inclination to be sullen, he smiled. “It was beautiful. If you were serious about needing a piano player, I’m sure Chief Kasei might oblige. Could be part of my ongoing stress therapy. At least until you find a replacement.”

“Kogami,” Akane whispered. She ran her hands across his shoulders. “What a great idea!”

“It would be my honor and my greatest pleasure to make the arrangements. You played perfectly for a cold rehearsal. It was as if you were Kurnan Kazuya himself.” He paused when Kogami frowned. “I did not mean to offer any offense by comparing you with a dead man. I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s not it. It’s the music,” Kogami said. “It’s as if...as if something...I can’t figure it.”

“Something’s missing.“ Nagano chuckled softly, bowing his head before standing back up. “There have long been speculations that there was one last song that Kazuya was writing before his death at the hands of the Emperor’s soldiers. But nothing has come of it. There’s been no evidence to breathe life into the rumor or prove it to be true. I share your suspicions. Though the flow of the play and its acts are seamless, something is off.”

Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands, Kogami bowed his head in misery. Without the pleasant distraction and concentration of the score to occupy him, he was left to the merciless symptoms of his head cold, which returned with vengeance. The violent and bone-jarring cough worsened the throbbing in his head, and a stabbing sensation thrummed at his temples in the rhythmic timing of his heartbeat. 

Slipping the knot of his tie, Kogami closed his eyes. Desperate to find some relief, he rubbed his brow to alleviate the built-up sinus pressure along the sides of his nose. Chilled to the bone, the Enforcer struggled to breathe and shivered against a sudden cold that descended on him even as perspiration beaded on his forehead. 

Alerted by a strange rattling noise, Kogami looked up in time to see five armed men advancing on him from the corridor annex beside the stage. They were dressed in the traditional Gosuko armor worn by the Emperor’s soldiers. The distinctive helmets with black nape guards that flapped noisily as they ran gave away their position. Blood-red cuirasses and matching tassels gleamed in the stage lighting as they each took a knee and positioned their muskets to fire.

“Akane!” Kogami shouted. He stood up and reached out for her, but she was beyond arm’s reach. “Get down!” 

Instinctively putting himself between her and the riflemen, he reached for his Dominator, but it was too late. The five costumed assailants shot first. Deafened by the sharp report, Kogami grit his teeth as the gunfire vibrated painfully in his ears. All five bullets struck him in the chest and lower torso. Kogami counted them as the world slowed down to depict the madness in slow motion for his bewildered mind. 

The violent impact lifted him off his feet and sent him flying backwards off the platform to the floor ten feet below. As he fell, Kogami stared into the ceiling above him. The stars and the speckled refraction of light from the chandelier danced before his eyes. Consciousness waning, he experienced weightlessness. His vision grew blurry, and the chandelier appeared to be a sun that grew smaller and smaller still, until there was nothing but the blackness.

_“Where do you go when you close your eyes?”_

“What?” Kogami asked. He was lying on his back, looking up into the worried faces of Masaoka and Kagari. “What happened?”

“Take it easy, Ko,” Masaoka whispered. He put a hand on Kogami’s shoulder to ensure that he remained lying down on the floor. “You took a bad spill from the piano platform. And you don’t look so good.”

“I fell?”

“Looked like you jumped, only backwards,” Kagari said. 

Masaoka nodded his head in agreement. “You stood up like you saw something. Something that really spooked you. Then launched yourself off the platform. Just like that other piano player did.”

“Only you landed on the floor and not a bunch of lighting equipment.”

“There were five of them!” Kogami shouted, abruptly remembering the incident. Shoving Masaoka’s hands aside, he sat up and looked around him. “They had weapons! Rifles!” 

“Rifles?” Kagari whispered. He exchanged a concerned glance with Masaoka. “There’s nobody here but us, Ko.”

“They were dressed in Gosuko armor!” Kogami insisted. “With muskets!” With no sign of armed intruders in the vicinity, he continued to look around the auditorium perplexed. He pressed his fingers into his chest and side, which burned as if he had been shot multiple times. The pain penetrated through the flesh into his back, which was re-injured in the sudden fall. With a groan, Kogami collapsed back to the theater’s polished granite floor.

“He’s not fit for duty in this condition!” Akane yelled. “You should never have signed him out of medical!”

“There’s nothing in the policy manual against it,” Ginoza said. “Kogami’s an Enforcer. This is what they do. Serve at our beckon call.”

“Is that Akane?” Kogami asked. He tried to roll to his side, but the pain in his back prevented it. “What’s the yelling about?”

“About you,” Kagari whispered with a grin. “You woke up just in time. This is starting to get good.”

“This is all some vindictive, childish game, Inspector Ginoza! Kogami can barely stand up! I can’t believe that Dr. Iseya would ever agree to it. So you must have forced him.”

“Are you accusing me of strong arming MWPSB personnel?”

“There’s no other way to explain how a sick, injured Enforcer under the influence of medication was ever permitted to leave headquarters.”

As much as Kogami was enjoying the spectacle, he worried that the Senior Inspector would eventually gain the high ground. Before he could say something to distract them from their argument, he was overcome with a violent coughing fit, which left him gasping for air.

Hearing the coughing, Akane turned around to see him lying on the floor in need of assistance, but conscious. “Mr. Kagari and Mr. Masaoka, please take Kogami to Director Nagano’s office. He knows the way. I’ll be there shortly.” She turned her attention back to Ginoza and resumed her protest. “He’s not staying here.”

“That’s not your decision to make.”

Kagari stooped down to get his head under one of Kogami’s shoulders while Masaoka raised the fallen Enforcer to his feet. “Man, I do love it when Akane shows her teeth and claws,” he said. “It’s such a turn on.”

Kogami leaned heavily on the younger man. He turned to Masaoka. “Stop her, pops,” he gasped between coughs. “I’m not worth it.”

“No one should have to remind Ginoza of his place. He’s the senior Inspector on-site and, as usual, he’s acting like an ass.” Masaoka paused beside the array of MWPSB surveillance equipment. “Kunizaka, help Kagari get Ko to the director’s office. Somebody needs to stay behind and keep the peace.”

Yayoi glanced over her shoulder at the battle erupting between their superiors and shook her head. “Good luck with that.”

### # # #

By the time they reached Director Nagano’s office, Kogami was perspiring so heavily that he could feel his shirt clinging uncomfortably to his skin. “Kagari, get back down there,” he whispered, leaning on the doorframe.

“Masaoka is there,” Kagari said. “Akane will listen to him.”

“She’s not the one I’m worried about, okay?”

Kagari’s face brightened with understanding. “Right, you know Ginoza has really had it out for you ever since you came back from the States. I’m feeling left out. What the hell did you do over there? And more importantly, are there pictures?”

“Kagari!” Kogami and Yayoi shouted at once.

“I’m going. I’m going.”

“Maybe you should lie down on the couch,” Yayoi suggested.

Kogami staggered into the office and sat on the edge of Nagano’s desk. Five steps from the door and he was out of breath and panting, struggling to breathe through his nose. He winced in pain, digging his fingers into his chest. “Feels like someone’s putting out cigarettes on my skin.”

“Take off your jacket.”

Reluctantly, Kogami unzipped his gray coat. Yayoi helped him slip out of it while he shivered, teeth chattering against a sudden chill. Beneath his business jacket, his shirt was thoroughly soaked with sweat. Eyes closed in frustration, he concentrated on controlling the pain by massaging the burning sensation at his chest. Without the padding of the coat, it hurt much more, and he gasped, desperate to alleviate the pain. 

“Kogami,” Yayoi whispered, “is that blood?”

Kogami opened his eyes and examined the dull crimson spotting the front of his shirt. The fabric was soaked through with sweat, and what Yayoi was seeing was not blood, but a definite discoloration of the skin beneath it.

Hands shaking uncontrollably, he unbuttoned his shirt and stared incredulously at the raised welts on his skin. There were three prominent swellings on his chest and another two lower down on his torso. Disrupting the pronounced lines of his abdominal muscles, the welts were becoming less distinct as they continued to swell across a more general area. A purplish tinge was emerging as evidence of deep, internal bruising.

“Those look like...”

“Bullet wounds,” he finished her statement.

“What’s the last thing you remember before falling off the platform?”

Kogami ran a hand through his damp hair. He was exhausted and unable to think clearly. “I’m not sure you’d believe me, if I told you. Not sure I believe my own eyes.”

“Try me.”

“I saw soldiers, dressed in Gosuko armor, carrying muskets.”

“The Emperor’s soldiers? Like the ones in the foyer?”

“Yeah, I know how it sounds. There were five of them. I could even hear the sound of their armor as they ran.” He rubbed the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead and tried to sniff through clogged nostrils. “I know what I saw.”

“I don’t doubt you, Kogami. But you aren’t well,” Yayoi said. “Maybe the combination of meds you were given in the infirmary are causing some kind of side effect, making you hallucinate. Given the nature of this theater’s history, the relics on display, talk of the Kurouma Curse, and your condition, it’s really no surprise.”

“Careful, you sound like Ginoza, but in this case, take it as a compliment.”

“Save it. While the argument is logical, none of that explains these injuries,” Yayoi said. She held his shirt opened and closely examined the wounds and even pressed a finger against one. “Sorry,” she said as Kogami flinched. “These bruises are definitely arranged like gunshots.”

“Bruises?” Akane said from the doorway. “What bruises?”

“Kogami was injured in that fall from the platform,” Yayoi said, “but I can’t even begin to explain how.”

“Kogami?” Akane said. 

_“Where do you go when you close your eyes?”_

Her voice sounded so very far away. Irritated by the repetition, Kogami slurred, “Why do you keep asking me that question?” The world went abruptly sideways, and he obligingly went with it. He fainted and fell from the desk to the floor of the office. Akane and Yayoi grabbed him before he could bash his head.

“Kogami!” Akane shouted. “Help me get him to the sofa.”

Too weak to assist the women, Kogami let them carry him to the director’s leather couch. Though he shivered uncontrollably, his body felt as if it were on fire, especially beneath the swollen bruises on his chest and torso. Breathing was becoming more and more difficult. A fit of coughing only added to his misery. Hands balled into fists, he grit his teeth against the pain and fought to control the involuntary muscles spasms that wracked his body.

“It’s alright, Kogami,” Akane whispered to him. She pulled a blanket from the back of the sofa and covered him with it. “Yayoi, is there another blanket?” 

“I’ve got one.”

“Bring me his coat, too.” Akane threw the second blanket over Kogami and tucked it around his shoulders and neck and then laid his jacket overtop of it. Adjusting the throw pillow, she brushed aside her bangs and laid her forehead against his. “He’s burning up.”

“I’ll see if there’s some water in Director Nagano’s refrigerator.”

“Don’t be silly,” he said deliriously. “I’m fine.”

“Ssh, just lie still.” Akane took the offered water and gently brought the bottle to his lips. “Here, drink this.”

Kogami could not raise his head without her assistance. He was grateful for her strength and tried to swallow. Despite the cold temperature of the water, his throat was raw, burning, and irritated. Groaning, he turned his head away. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?” Akane asked.

“Being such a burden.”

She sat back on her knees, lips pursed into a thin line of regret. “And I’m very sorry for not standing up for you when I should have, Kogami.” Akane ran her fingers over his feverish face. “Ginoza was wrong to force you here.” She looked up at Yayoi. “Whatever this is—the cold or flu—isn’t getting any better. It’s getting worse.”

“I’ll check the freezer for ice.”

While Yayoi was distracted, Akane bent over and kissed Kogami’s forehead. He smiled weakly, reveling in the feel of her cool lips on his skin. “You know, Inspector, if you’re planning to take advantage of me in my weakened condition, I’m inclined to let that happen.”

“You’re impossible,” she said. The words had been her mantra for the last three weeks.

_Not impossible to love, hopefully_ , he thought.

“Here,” Yayoi said, “I found these ice packs.” 

Akane pulled back the blankets and pushed aside Kogami’s shirt. “What is going on here? This happened in the fall?” She put the ice packs on the worst of the bruising.

Kogami winced and tried to pull away, but there was nowhere for him to go. Eyes squeezed shut, he pressed his face into the back of the sofa. He was too weak to do much more and soon relented as his muscles gave out. “It’s so cold. So cold.”

Akane kissed his forehead. “I know. You just rest here. I’ll be right back.”

“Should I call medical?” Yayoi asked.

“No, I won’t put that on you,” Akane replied. “Ginoza knew better than to drag Kogami out of medical in this condition. This is awful and cruel, even for him. I’ll take care of this myself.” She glanced back at Kogami’s face. “Keep an eye on him. If there’s any change, call me immediately.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

### # # #

_Asura Rai gently dabbed at Kurnan’s feverish forehead with a damp cloth. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she stared down at his face and pulled the coverlets up to his neck. She was careful to avoid putting any pressure on the bloody bandage above his left hip. Though the bullet had been removed, the wound was seeping blood beneath it. With a worried smile, she kissed his forehead and brushed a lock of damp hair from his face._

“ _You’re doing it again,” she whispered. “You’re humming that sad song.”_

_“Am I?” he replied. “I thought I was just lying here sleeping. Watched over by an angel.”_

“ _Well, part of that is right, but I’m going to lose my wings and my patience if you don’t get some rest.”_

“ _Are you angry with me?” He caressed her arm and hand._

“ _Kurnan, this highwayman business is dangerous, and getting ever more dangerous,” she confessed. “The playhouse is doing fine right now. You needn’t risk yourself. You suffered a flesh wound this time. Next time you might not be so lucky.” She sank to her knees beside the bed and laid her head on his arm, kissing his skin. “Forgive me for being so selfish, but I don’t think I could live without you.”_

“ _There’s nothing to forgive, my love. I should be asking for your forgiveness.” He ran his hand through her long black hair and played with the red ribbon that she had tied into an intricate love knot. “The Emperor’s purse was particularly heavy last night. There’s no need for me to venture on the road for a time.” As she stood up sadly, he took her hand. “Going so soon?”_

“ _I need to fetch more water from the well.” Asura Rai hummed the melody that Kurnan had been humming, accurately emulating the tune. “I’ll be right back.”_

_Kurnan listened with a grin as her voice echoed in the corridor beyond their room and down the staircase. With all of the windows thrown open to capture the spring breeze, he could still dimly hear her as she made her way through the taproom. The melody grew louder outside of the playhouse beneath the opened window of their bedroom and ceased in the vicinity of the well in the front yard._

“ _Oh, hello, Gorou,” Asura said. “What lovely flowers.”_

_Propping himself on his elbows, Kurnan sat up in bed. He concentrated as the wind brought the voice of their conversation to his ears._

“ _As lovely as you, Miss Asura Rai,” the blacksmith said. “Lovely day for a ride in the country. I was hoping you might go with me, if your father can spare you.”_

“ _Not today, Gorou,” she replied. “There’ s ever so much to do for a new stage production, costumes to mend, music to arrange, scripts to be read, endless rehearsals.”_

“ _That’s what you said last week!” Gorou’s voice grew insistent._

“ _And it is the answer I will always have for you. So take that temper of yours back to your forge because it’s not at all welcomed here!”_

_Kurnan threw the coverlets back and tried to pull himself from the bed, but he was too weak from blood loss and soon felt faint. He hovered on the edge of the bed, knowing that if he rose from it, he would fall to the floor just as quickly._

“ _Get your hands off me, Gorou! Gorou, stop it!”_

_Leaning on the bedpost, Kurnan reached for his sword belt and drew the rapier from its leather scabbard. He took strength from the hilt of the blade and made his way into the corridor._

Startled from his troubled slumber by the urgency in the dream, Kogami sat up in alarm. “Akane?” 

Across the room, he heard an insistent rattling and focused his blurry eyes on the security case housing Kurnan Kazuya’s sword. The rapier shuddered restlessly and clattered against the glass with such force, Kogami wondered if it would shatter.

“Kogami, what’s wrong?” Yayoi asked. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost...” Transfixed by the quivering sword, she stopped in the office doorway. It was a sight that her eyes could not deny, but one that her mind was having great difficulty comprehending. Arms folded across her chest, she slowly lowered them and her guard as she watched from across the room. Her usually expressionless face was pale and lined with disbelief.

“Where’s Akane?” Kogami tossed aside the blankets and struggled to get to his feet. Pitching from side to side unsteadily, he fought for balance.

“She’s calling for a medical pick up,” Yayoi replied. She was unable to take her eyes from the restless sword.

Faintly beyond the door, Kogami heard Akane’s voice. “That’s funny. I’m not getting a signal. I’ll just step outside to get a better connection to—“ Her voice was cut off by a hoarse, grating noise that shrieked through the auditorium. The entire theater quaked with the ear-splitting volume.

“Akane!”

Kogami was forced to stop in the doorway as Yayoi and he were buffeted by a stinging barrage of sweltering air that met them like a moving wall of hot steam. They were staggered by the intense wave of heat that stifled their breathing and scalded their skin. 

“Get back!” Kogami pushed Yayoi back into the office and stood in front of her. 

With nothing more than his shirt for protection, Kogami threw his arms up in front of his face and pushed through the seething heat. The auditorium lights flicked on and off like strobe lights at a rock concert. Above the polished granite floors, the chandelier swung precariously from side to side, slamming into the wall housing. Bits of quartz rained down from the fractured light and shattered over the last few rows of seats and floor space.

For the few seconds when the lights were on, the theater’s house appeared normal, but in the dimness that followed, an ominous black cloud of brimstone swirled like a mad wind through the room. Molten sparks were thrown about as if sent billowing from an unseen forge.

It was difficult to breathe through the powerful stench of sulfur, but Kogami fought through it. He saw Akane standing near the main entrance, looking about in terror. The theater lights continued to flicker on and off at erratic intervals, and the temperature in the room rose sharply with the influx of super heated air. 

“Kogami?” 

An invisible force snatched her up from the floor and raised her ten feet into the air before then hurling her backwards into the chamber away from the doors. She flew 30 feet and collided with the metal backing of the last row of seats. Dazed by the force of the throw and the subsequent fall, Akane sat sprawled on the floor. Blinking back tears in the disorienting flash between light and darkness, she crawled to her hands and knees. Dazed and confused, she managed to get to her feet and attempted to move again to the exit.

Forty feet directly above her, a security gate rattled so violently that debris from the concrete niche housing it broke free and covered her in thick drywall dust. Like a medieval portcullis meant to keep storming enemies from invading the castle, the gate came flying down from its berth.

Kogami set his jaw and ran for her. He picked her up and pirouetted away from the crashing gate. It slammed against the floor and into its groove with such force that it slipped the track and smashed the granite floor beneath it to pieces. Kogami was certain that the weight of the gate would have cut them both in half. 

A sharp piece of metal from the gate tore through Kogami’s shirt and cut his arm. Blood made a splotchy line down the sleeve, but he barely flinched. Staring at the gate, he quickly maneuvered Akane away from the steel frame as tendrils of black smoke rolled off the metal. “What the hell is going on?”

Losing her footing on the shattered quartz and glass from the chandelier, Akane fell and nearly brought Kogami down with her. Her eyes widened with horror, and she pointed to the ceiling above them as the chandelier broke free from the rafters. 

Kogami threw his body over her and wrapped his arms and legs around her. He rolled to escape being crushed beneath the heavy light fixture. Intent on shielding her from the explosion of shattered glass, he repositioned himself over top of her to block the flying glass that came flying at their faces. Nose to nose, they both turned to look at the near disaster as the chandelier came to its final rest in the center aisle.

“I don’t understand any of this,” Akane said. Duly frightened, she wrapped her hands in the open folds of his shirt and clung to him desperately. “Is the phantom of the Kurouma Theatre real?”

“Gotta admit, this Kurouma Curse is starting to make sense,” Kogami replied. He got up and helped her to her feet. Rubbing her arms, she fidgeted anxiously in his embrace. “Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Stay close to me.” Kogami took her hand and scanned the room. Hidden behind them in the rows of seats or beneath equipment tables, the rest of Division 1 emerged from the onslaught with pale, haggard faces of disbelief.

“What in the hell was that?” Kagari said. “And what in the hell is that smell?” Eyes tearing from the pungent scent of sulfur, he clasped both hands over his face to partially block it.

“Clearly this building isn’t up to code,” Ginoza replied. Wincing because of the stench, he held onto the back of the seat with one arm raised to protect his face from the heated air current moving about them.

“Have you seen the donor’s list on the wall plaque outside?” Masaoka said. “This place is state of the art.”

Yayoi hurried to her keyboard and frantically began inputting data into the surveillance equipment. “Something very strange is going on here.”

Without warning, sparks flew from the keyboard beneath her fingers. Singeing her, they leaped from the tablet to the monitor, which went blank. Yayoi rubbed her tingling fingertips and took a cautious step back. The monitor shattered into minute pieces in an explosion of black smoke and flame. Glass shot out of the panel and into her face. Though she ducked in time to avoid most of the jagged glass, Yayoi suffered a few minor abrasions to her cheeks and chin.

“Take cover!” Ginoza cried. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down into a row of seats beside him.

The other monitors on the table flashed erratically and went blank before erupting in a chaotic spray of sparks and spewing black smoke. Hard drives seized audibly as power sources blew up and popped, leaving an acrid scent hanging in the tumultuous air. As if struck with ordnance, the remaining electronics exploded and, without warning, the theater’s house lights went dark for the last time. 

It would have been pitch black in the room except for the illumination of a single light on the stage and a few of the remnant sparks from their equipment. Like heated ash rising from a camp fire, the sparks flew around in erratic patterns from the fragged surveillance array. The caustic smell of fried circuits wafted through the room and mixed with the foul underpinning of sulfur.

A few agonizing seconds later, the emergency lighting came on and lit up the perimeter of the room. An atmosphere of cold air then descended on the room. Kogami saw his breath rising above his head as he hunkered down in a row of seats beside Akane. “What the hell?”

Akane wrapped her arms about her shoulders and shivered. “This is insane.”

The temperature quickly normalized in the auditorium, but the lighting remained dim with power coming only from the emergency system. “Kunizaka?” Ginoza said. “What’s the situation?”

“Difficult to tell,” she replied. Cautiously, she left the protection of the theater seats and inspected the surveillance equipment. “It’s like we were hit with an EMP.”

“My wristcom is working, but I can’t get an outside connection.” Akane said, moving stiffly. Kogami helped her up to her feet.

“Are we being jammed?” Ginoza asked.

“If we were, the wristcoms would not function at all. We have internal coms, but we’re cut off from any outside access.” Brow furrowed in thought, she examined what was left of the surveillance equipment with disappointment. “These systems are ruined.”

Kagari pulled his Dominator from the holster behind his back and pointed it at Kogami.

“ _Crime coefficient 235. Target is a registered Enforcer. Status: Enforce at will. Non-lethal paralyzer. Trigger safety is now released. Aim carefully and subdue the target_.”

“Well, the Dominators still work,” Kagari said. “Did we trip some kind of crazy security system?” He glanced at Masaoka, who was intently staring at the stage. “What are you looking at?”

“That light on the stage. If the main power is out,” Masaoka said, “it shouldn’t be working. Even when the lights went out, it stayed on.”

“And how’s that important?” Ginoza asked.

“Old theater superstition,” the veteran cop replied. “One light is always kept on in an empty theater to keep the ghosts entertained.”

Ginoza rolled his eyes in disgust. “Is that your best assessment, Enforcer Masaoka? Ghosts? A poltergeist caused an electrical malfunction that destroyed our equipment? Don’t be absurd.”

“Something strange is happening,” Akane said. Letting her business coat fall over her shoulder, she showed them the deep, purple bruising on her arm.

“You said you weren’t hurt,” Kogami said. He snatched a flashlight from a console and examined the injury in the light. “Your other arm?”

“These look like hand prints,” Yayoi said.

“That explains it,” Ginoza said. “Kogami caused those injures when he pushed Inspector Tsunemori away from that falling security gate.”

“Ko, might have pushed her out of the way, but he was no where near her when something clearly picked her up off of her feet and threw her to the floor,” Kagari said.

“Inspector Tsunemori,” Yayoi said, “do you remember what happened?”

Shrugging back into her coat, Akane bowed her head and clasped her hands in front of her. “I saw a man dressed in a leather apron. He was carrying tools.”

“What kind of tools?” Masaoka asked.

“A hammer and a rasp, I think.”

“Blacksmith’s tools.” Masaoka shook his head in disbelief. “That would be Gorou then, I suspect. Explains the intense heat.”

“Don’t even suggest it!” Ginoza shouted. “There’s no evidence to support any of this talk of ghosts.”

“And yet, it cannot be discounted,” Yayoi said.

“Not you, too,” Ginoza pined.

“Kogami has similar bruises on his chest from when he fell off the piano platform,” Yayoi said. “But the injuries do not correspond to a fall. They look more like gunshot wounds.”

“Gunshot wounds?” Ginoza said.

“Mind if I have a look, Ko?” Masaoka took his flashlight and examined the wounds on Kogami’s chest and abdomen. “Five bruises. All round and uniform.” He cut off the light and looked up at Kogami. “When you came to after the fall, you mentioned five men with muskets. You claimed they had charged you and fired their weapons.”

“You know, those injuries aren’t unusual for someone who’s been attacked by a ghost. Even if Ko had grabbed Akane hard enough to throw her like that, the bruises wouldn’t show up that quickly.”

“How can we be certain Kogami’s injures were not sustained in the previous fall from our last case when Inspector Tsunemori landing on him?” Ginoza pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “She tends to be rather accident prone, and Kogami takes the brunt of it.”

“For one, those are fresh, Inspector,” Masaoka said.

“And two, the injuries do not fit the pattern of bruising sustained from a fall or even a pattern of someone falling on top of them, as you suggest.” Yayoi crossed her arms over her chest in a quiet act of defiance.

“Then what, exactly, are you saying?”

“From the ponderous of the evidence, despite any skepticism we may hold, Kagari may be right. What we may have here is a ghost story, complete with a cast of ghosts. Kogami’s unusual visions, as well as Inspector Tsunemori’s sighting, unexplained injuries, electrical anomalies, extreme temperature variations, as well as other phenomena are all evidence to point to the improbable.”

“Nonsense!”

“Then how do _you_ explain it, Inspector?” Yayoi closed her eyes, knowing he had no answer. “You’ve done a lot of debunking the theories, but haven’t provided any substantial theories of your own.”

“Cold, hard facts Enforcer Kunizaka,” Ginoza said. “Enforcer Masaoka, did you clear the work roster with everyone who left the theater?”

“Down to Director Nagano himself. The entire company left the building 15 minutes ago,” Masaoka replied. “Nobody even gave a look back at this place.”

“Someone is still here,” Ginoza protested. “And they’re trying to convince us that there’s a phantom wandering the premises.”

“Is that the same someone who’s been trying to sabotage _one_ particular production for the last 300 years?” Kagari scoffed. “Now that sounds like nonsense. I’m leaning towards a pissed off ghost.”

“That’s enough! Until this phantom taps me on the shoulder and introduces himself, I’m sticking to the facts.” Ginoza checked his wristcom. “Seems Kunizaka is correct. Our wristcoms appear to be working, at least internally. There was a fuse box somewhere beneath the stage on a sub level. Enforcers Masaoka and Kagari, you’re with me. We’ll get the main power supply restored.”

“What about us?” Yayoi said. “Considering the circumstances, we should stay together.”

“Enforcer Kunizaka, salvage as much of this surveillance equipment as you can. Restore whatever functionality to the system that you can. Inspector Tsunemori, you stay here with Kogami. I’m not certain the two of you weren’t exposed to some chemical agent on the last case, which is just now showing its effects through induced hallucinations.”

“So the bruises on her arms are a hallucination?” Kogami growled. “The fact that they hurt is just a figment of her imagination?”

“I’m surprised at you, Kogami. You’re generally level-headed when you’re not being insubordinate. How do you explain what’s happening here?”

“I can’t,” Kogami turned his back on Ginoza. Draping his business coat over Akane’s shoulders, he shrugged into his gray jacket and zipped it closed. Hands shoved deeply into his pockets, he retreated to a back row of seats, where he sat down to brood.

“Then leave it to level minds to find the truth,” Ginoza said. “Masaoka and Kagari, let’s find that fuse box.”


	3. ACT 3

While Kogami rested in a middle row of the orchestra section, Akane assisted Yayoi with salvaging their surveillance equipment. From the snatches of conversation between the two women, Kogami could only surmise that their arsenal of pillbots, cameras, and terminals were in ruins, never to be resurrected, even with Kunizaka’s considerable tech skills. 

However, there was a glimmer of hope for a small tablet that had been spared the brunt of the electrical assault. As Kunizaka worked to resuscitate the tablet, Kogami was desperately trying to breathe life back into his lungs. His sinuses were fully clogged and ached from the severe congestion. This sensation was compounded by the throbbing in his head, which worsened whenever he tried to sniff or coughed. He longed for the scent of a cigarette, but knew better than to attempt smoking one.

Akane was wearing his suit jacket, which lung loosely over her slender frame and shoulders. She looked like a circus clown lost in the long sleeves, but fashion was not the aim. The jacket provided her with an additional layer of warmth. A chill had returned to the auditorium, only this time Kogami was not alone in experiencing the cold. For that he was grateful. Recent events had him questioning his fitness as an Enforcer and his sanity.

The main house lights came on and flickered twice before resuming their familiar brilliance. “Finally,” Akane said. She handed Yayoi a tray of tools to continue working on the tablet.

Bothered by the illumination, Kogami closed his eyes. He shivered despite the warmth of his gray coat and pulled the furry collar tight about his neck. As he settled back into the chair, he felt the warmth wafting beneath his chin from the collar. While the terrible coughing had momentarily subsided, the fever and misery of swollen sinuses raged on. He leaned his head back against the seat and tried his best to get comfortable.

“ _Where do you go when you close your eyes?”_

Kogami opened his eyes to find Kagari standing over him. “Why does everyone feel the need to keep asking me that question?”

“What? Ask how you’re feeling?” Kagari shrugged and threw himself down into the seat next him. “I don’t know. Maybe because they actually care. You really are a bugbear when you‘re sick. Here.” He handed Kogami a soda can. “There were vending machines downstairs, and I got you a drink. You can thank me when you’re in a better mood.”

“I’m sorry,” Kogami whispered, regretting his acerbic tone. “And thank you.” He put the cold can against his face and rolled it gently across his inflamed sinuses. The cold brought instant, much appreciated relief.

“That actually sounded sincere.”

“It was.”

“Now I know you’re really sick.” Kagari popped the top of his soda and took a long drink. “How’s the arm?”

“Can’t tell,” Kogami replied. “Everything below my forehead hurts. Should be fine until we get out of this place. Akane patched it up. She’s getting pretty decent with her fist aid. Not much she can do for my back.”

“You know, Kogami, there are better ways to do it. Girls are supposed to fall for you, not on you.”

“Remember when I said I was sorry? I take it back.”

“Figures, and I’m the one person who totally believes what you and Akane have been saying.”

Kogami took the can from his forehead and sat up, staring at Kagari for a long moment. “You really believe us, despite what Ginoza says?”

“What does he know? I’ve done a lot of research on this kind of stuff.” He drank from the can and put his arm behind his head.

“I would imagine ghost hunting is not conducive to regulating stress levels,” Kogami said. “Any such literature or programming would have been banned or restricted.”

“Video games are the last bastion of the aberrant mind. Because the scenarios aren’t considered real, they aren’t as heavily censored by the Sibyl System, which gives the devs the ability to provide content that might otherwise be banned in the mainstream.”

“Your research came from a video game, Kagari?” Kogami rolled his eyes. Lying his head back against the seat, he held the cold can against his feverish forehead. 

“Not just any video, _the_ video game of year, _Silent Redemption_. You play a character who’s been murdered, but you come back as a ghost to get your revenge on the ones responsible.”

“Since when did ghosts hold grudges.”

“Since recorded history, Ko,” Kagari said intently. “This is about unfinished business. Business so important that the spirit would choose to remain earthbound, rather than going on to the afterlife. These incidents are no mere illusions. Akane may have experienced an actual encounter with an earthbound entity,” Kagari whispered, “which is scary as hell by itself, but you...you experienced a past life event.”

Kogami struggled to grasp the logic behind Kagari’s argument but came up short. “Then answer this one question: why?”

“Because the dead need the living to sort out that unfinished business. They can’t do it themselves. In the game, you force the living to relive key moments of your life to give them clues as to what really happened.”

“You learned all of this from a video game?”

“To make the game more interesting there were Easter eggs throughout the storyline,” Kagari said. “If you found them, they contained files on actual ghost hunting techniques. Check this out.” He leaned toward Kogami and activated his wristcom. “This is a floor plan of the theater that Kunizaka sent to us before the rehearsal. I’ll add a filter for temperature radiants. See anything out of the ordinary?”

Opening one eye to look at the holo, Kogami shook his head. “Not from those scans.”

“This is from a reading taken just before our surveillance equipment got torched.” He added the temperature filter. “Notice anything now?”

Kogami sat up and scrutinized the holographic map, but could hardly believe his eyes. He examined the previous map to compare the two. Manipulating the hologram, he created an overlay of the two. The results were undeniable. A large mass of significantly warmer air was swarming in a hurricane pattern inside the main auditorium. In the back of the house area, there was a concentrated, but smaller mass of cold air moving along an outer wall. 

“That’s Nagano’s office,” Kogami said. “He keeps a sword in there that once belonged to Kurnan Kazuya. It woke me because it was shaking against the glass inside the case. Time stamp shows this was just before Akane was attacked.”

“My guess is there are two separate entities in this building, actually three if you count this one.” Kagari changed the floor plan to include the second level of the theater. “Here’s the third one,” he said, pointing to an area of cold. “I was talking to one of the tech crew, a red-head with the thinnest waistline and biggest—”

“Kagari!”

“Oh yeah, right, anyway. She said that after the fire, the theater was rebuilt based on plans from the original playhouse, including the inn rooms on the second floor, which would have been above the taproom. The renovations built around these areas to preserve them, expanding the theater upward and out, but keeping much of the original intact.”

“The three entities,” Kogami mouthed the words with skepticism, “Kazuya, Asura Rai, and the blacksmith?”

“Makes perfect sense, Ko. A suicide can trap a soul between worlds. We know that Gorou committed suicide right above that stage.” He pointed to the stage itself. “A violent death can do the exact same thing. Asura Rai committed suicide to warn her lover. Kazuya was later gunned down on the road outside. They never got to see each other again: unfinished business.”

“Alright,” Ginoza said, emerging from backstage. Staring at an image on his wristcom, he walked to centerstage. The sound of his shoes echoed through the elaborate set of a Japanese village. “Report in.”

Kagari stood up and drank the last of his soda. “Those side exits to the north that you asked me to check? We’re not getting out of there. Security gates are down in both corridors.”

“Same on the south side,” Masaoka said. With soda cans in his hands, he came around the stage’s left side and handed the cans to Akane and Yayoi. “Unless we can find a way to get into that security system, we’re stuck in here until morning when Director Nagano returns.”

“Kunizaka?” Ginoza barely looked up from the holo before him. Absently, he brushed aside a heavy cord hanging from the hidden catwalk above the stage floor.

“One tablet survived, but barely,” she answered. “Getting into the theater’s security system will be problematic. The power supply was completely drained. It’s also damaged, which means that charging will take twice as long.”

“How long?” he asked, annoyance in his voice. As if swatting at a bothersome fly, he moved away from the cable dangling about his neck and shoulders.

“An hour to fully reboot the tablet’s operating system. Another hour to bring our surveillance program back online. An hour to scan the security system and logs.” Yayoi shrugged, arms crossed in front of her. “That’s only if the data wasn’t lost. And another hour or less to access a data entry point and hack the system.”

“Four hours? You have three,” Ginoza said, “unless Kogami’s phantom objects to our—”

A thick cable coiled itself aroun Ginoza’s neck three times and stifled the words in his throat. Panicked by the sudden pressure crushing his windpipe, the MWPSB Inspector grasped at his neck. His frantic motions knocked the glasses from his face, and he desperately clawed at the wire constricting his airway. Gasping for help, Ginoza’s feet kicked wildly in the air as he was yanked from the stage floor and swung back and forth above the floor.

“Shit!” Kogami swore under his breath.

“Oh no, Ginoza!” Akane screamed. “It’s killing him.” With Masaoka right on her heels, she sprinted up the choral risers to the stage and grabbed one of Ginoza’s legs to prop him up. Masaoka grabbed the other leg to offer what little support he could to the strangling Inspector.

“Burning—” Ginoza gasped. “Fire—”

Tongues of smoke rolled off his suit as if his entire body were engulfed in flames. The unseen flames left a sooty trail over his flailing hands and dulled the shine of his meticulously polished shoes.

“Yayoi! There’s a control panel for the light rigging just off stage,” Akane said. “Bring that light bar down. Kogami, get to the catwalk and release the wire. Get him down from up there if you can!”

Kogami sprinted toward the stage and took the choral risers two at time. Glancing from left and then to the right, he saw the narrow stairway leading to the catwalk and quickly made his way up to the area above the stage. Narrowly missing a row of toolboxes, he made his way onto the catwalk. 

The entangled bundle of wires strangling Ginoza slithered over the safety railing like copulating snakes in a riverbed. It was impossible to tell one cable from another. He tried to grasp one, but it writhed beneath his fingers, moving so swiftly that it left a painful brush burn across his palms and fingertips.

“The controls are not responding!” Yayoi yelled. “Kogami, cut him down!”

Kogami ran back to the toolboxes and found a utility knife. He cut frantically through the coiling wires, occasionally looking down to see if Ginoza was free. The wire he needed was elusive and remained hidden, wrapped in a sheath of other cables. “Son of a bitch! There’s too many wires!” 

“Ko!” Kagari yelled. “Watch your six! The temperature’s rising again!”

The air above the stage grew insufferably hot, and the stench of brimstone descended from the shadows above Kogami. He coughed violently as the sulphuric smell and swarm of heated ash assailed him.

“Kagari!” Yayoi shouted. “Use your Dominator.”

“To shoot a ghost?” He took a knee beside Masaoka and pointed his Dominator into the air above Ginoza’s head. 

“ _Crime coefficient 235. Target is a registered Enforcer. Status: Enforce at will. Trigger safety is now released. Aim carefully and subdue the target_.” 

“What am I looking for, Kunizaka?” Kagari yelled. “The Dominator’s picking up Ko.”

“Then you’ve got the wrong target.” She pulled the Dominator from the holster at her back and pointed just below Kogami.

“ _Crime Coefficient over 500. Enforcement action required. Lethal Elimin— Standby: unable to scan due to obstructions...trigger is now locked_.”

“Kogami,” Yayoi shouted, “you’re in the way!”

There was no time to gamble. Ginoza’s eyes were rolling into the back of his head, and his lips were turning blue. Ignoring Yayoi’s warning, Kogami climbed over the safety railing and down onto the wire. Furiously cutting through all the wires as they slid and undulated beneath his hand. “Stand back!” He cut through the final cords and felt his body go weightless as gravity pulled him and Ginoza to the stage floor.

Landing on his back, Kogami hit the hard, wooden floor just after Ginoza. He saw stars dancing above him and realized it was simply the blurry reflection of the stage lighting above him. The fall knocked the wind out of him and further aggravated his back injuries. As all the members of Division 1 descended on Ginoza, Kagari came to help him sit up.

Gasping for breath, Ginoza thrashed on the floor. He wheezed desperately to get air into his lungs. Fingers curled under like claws, his hands were bright red and trembled from the painful burns raised across his skin. Wincing at the Inspector’s suffering, Kogami narrowed his eyes. While Ginoza could be unpleasant, even sardonic at times, he didn’t deserve this.

“Yayoi, get the first aid kit,” Akane said. “See if there’s some burn cream.”

Kogami got to his feet stiffly with Kagari’s help and limped down the risers. He arced his back to alleviate a spasm and then slumped into a seat in the front row. Legs spread, he perched his elbows on his thighs and peered up from the fold of his hands to watch the misery unfolding on the stage. “This is insane,” he whispered.

“Tell me about it.” Kagari sat down beside him.“But, he did bring this on himself, you know? By asking the phantom to tap him on the shoulder and make an introduction.” Running a hand through his orange hair, he then tugged anxiously at his lower lip. “Makes me wonder what the phantoms have in store for the rest of us.”

### # # #

Looking miserable, Ginoza sat hunched over in a metal, folding chair with a blanket draped over his shoulders. Swollen, purple bruises stood out against the pale skin of his neck. His hands were wrapped in medicated gauze to cover the burns that he had suffered in the supernatural assault. 

Though reddened and scalded, his fingers were left uncovered to give him the confidence of being mobile. And perhaps as a measure of confidence, so that he could get his finger on the trigger of his Dominator. There was a helpless, pained expression on his face that betrayed both a physical discomfort as well as his uncertainty about a situation that went beyond his control and understanding.

“Might be needing these,” Kogami said. He handed the sullen Inspector his glasses.

“Thanks.” Ginoza’s voice was hoarse, his throat raw from the harrowing experience of nearly being hanged to death. Hands shaking, he put the glasses on and circumspectly pushed them up the bridge of his nose. “I guess you want to say I told you so.”

“No. I’m having trouble understanding any of this myself.”

“You and Inspector Tsunemori? Your experiences appear to be genuine.” He gingerly rubbed at the swollen welts around his neck. Sighing heavily, Ginoza shook his head in defeat. “Attacked by an assailant I could neither see nor touch. How am I ever going to write _that_ report?”

“Get a hold of yourself, Inspector,” Masaoka said. “When the trail goes cold, you start looking for the clues that didn’t seem as obvious the first time around. Let’s review the investigation evidence. Both probable and improbable.”

“Pops is right, but how about we start with how we can protect ourselves? Three of us have been attacked now,” Kogami said. “Kunizaka, what makes you think our Dominators will have any effect on these phantoms?”

“Phantoms?” Ginoza asked. “You suspect there’s more than one?”

“I’ve got proof.” Kagari shared the floor-plan diagram and the temperature variations with the group.

“Nice work, Kagari,” Masaoka said. “What made you think to filter the floor plan for temperature fluctuations?”

“ _Silent Redemption_ , a video game,” Kagari replied proudly. “The extreme variations from hot to cold were too deliberate. A dead give away.”

“Three perps that we can’t see,” Masaoka said. “That puts us at a distinct disadvantage.”

Akane blew air into her hands to warm her fingers. “How do we tell who did the attacking?”

“My guess would be Gorou,” Masaoka replied. “From the manner of his death and the intense heat we’ve been experiencing. He was a blacksmith after all.” He glanced at Ginoza’s burned hands. “It’s clear they can harm us, but can we harm them?”

“That’s where the Dominators come in,” Yayoi said. She removed hers from its holster and held it up. “Ghosts are made of energy and emit a light source of their own, which is why they can be tracked by low frequency infrared. By their very nature, it is possible for these entities to severely effect temperatures and even the functionality of nearby electronics.”

“That’s how our equipment got fried,” Kagari said.

“Yes, and why our Dominators were not effected at all.”

Ginoza sighed, trying to hide the trembling in his hands. “The Dominators function on electromagnetic waves.”

“That should allow us to not only detect the presence of an entity but to possibly harm it. Kagari’s Dominator would not fire because it detected two targets: Kogami and the ghost.”

“So from here on out, until this case is resolved, Dominators are out and in hand at all times,” Ginoza said. “Kagari, if I understand correctly, we can tell when one of these phantoms is nearby?”

“Using deviations in temperature,” Kagari replied, “yeah.”

“Kunizaka, is there any way you can program our wristcoms to register sudden temperature changes?”

“Cut off from my HQ, our wristcoms are no better that internal intercoms. The fluctuations happen so suddenly, I doubt an alert would be helpful and might come when it’s too late.”

“What about mobile cymatic scans?”

“Constant scanning would consume too much power,” Yayoi replied. “We’ll have to rely on our senses and our Dominators.”

“Can the Dominators destroy them?”

“Theoretically,” Yayoi said, “yes.”

“Rather than wait for another attack, we’re going on the hunt. Floor by floor, but we stay together. No one goes alone. Kagari and Kogami, you’ll be one team. Masaoka, you’ll go with Inspector Tsunemori. And Kunizaka, you’re with me. Be ready with your Dominators. The ghosts...” Ginoza hesitated over the use of the word, “...the ghosts can attack and cause physical harm. Keep that in mind.” He loosened his tie and the collar of his shirt to avoid contact with the bruises beneath his chin. “We’ll start on the third floor and work our way down. Any questions?” Seeing none, he added, “Wristcoms on open channel at all times. Be safe out there.”


	4. ACT 4

Holding the Dominator in both hands, Akane scanned the quaint bedroom. A smile came to her face as she looked about the small chamber. It was a simply decorated room with only the essentials. A four-poster bed was situated on the north wall with layers of coverlets and quilts on it. On each side of the bed, there was a matching pair of dressers made of polished oak. 

Opposite the bed, nearest the door, there was a tall washing basin, complete with a porcelain bowl and a large dressing mirror, whose reflection took in the entire room behind her. Beside the mirror was a white vanity with a set of smaller mirrors. 

Sitting on the vanity, among the sundry items of a perfume, make up, combs, and hairbrushes, there was a quill feather pen and an ink font with bundles of parchment paper. The relics looked genuine, and Akane suppressed the urge to reach out and touch the artifacts for fear of damaging them. 

“This is incredible,” Akane whispered. “Director Nagano’s family went through a lot of trouble to recreate the old inn and playhouse with such authenticity. Wonder how they accomplished it? This vanity really looks antique.”

“What vanity?” From the corridor, Masaoka chuckled as he kept vigil. “There’s no mystery to an empty room, missy.”

“Mr. Masaoka, this room is hardly empty.” 

Masaoka peered into the room from the the doorway with wonderment, at first, and then something rarely seen in the Enforcer’s brown eyes: _fear_. “Missy, listen to me carefully now.” He extended his hand to her, indicating that she should come to him. Before Akane could take it, Masaoka was abruptly lifted from his feet in a roiling black cloud of brimstone and thrown violently against the wall.

The impact left an indentation of his head and back in the drywall. Dazed by the impact, the Enforcer slumped down to the floor. “Inspector—” 

The air turned suddenly hot. Breathing was difficult. Talking was nearly impossible. Masaoka threw his left arm up to protect his face from the projectiles that materialized in the air. Crude iron nails flew at him like thrown daggers. The first managed to catch him, leaving a scratch on his face. The others were ensnared in the durable fabric of his trench coat or repelled by the metal skin of his cybernetic arm. “Akane!”

“Mr. Masaoka!” Akane ran for the door, but before she could get through, it slammed shut with such force that the wooden doorframe fractured.

Akane heard the soft, distinct sounds of weeping behind her. She swung around to face the noise with her Dominator out in an offensive position. Dressed in a white gown, the crying woman was tied in an upright position at the foot of the four-post bed. An old-fashioned musket was tied beneath her breast.

“Asura Rai?” Akane gasped, her breath visible in the cold air. The long black hair and the red ribbon tied into a love knot was evidence enough of the woman’s identity. Akane could see right through her and the even dimmer images of the five soldiers there in the room with them. Three of them knelt at the window, priming their weapons, while the other two kept guard near the woman.

_“Crime Coeffcient under 60. Enforcement action not required. The trigger is now locked.”_

Tears streaming down her face, Asura looked to Akane and then to a large bay window along the eastern wall. The brilliant illumination of a full moon shone down from the night skies onto a curving ribbon of road beyond the glass. A lone horseman was galloping down the path toward the inn. Akane could hear the distinct sound of hoofbeats growing ever closer.

“Asura Rai!” Akane cried. She pointed the Dominator at the soldiers, but the weapon registered nothing. “I don’t know what to do!”

The apparition sadly smiled at her and then turned her head back to regard the figure approaching on horseback. “Where do you go when you close your eyes?” 

The sorrowful sound of her voice was heartbreaking. The loss in her eyes made Akane weak, so weak that her knees shook unsteadily beneath her. Lowering the Dominator when it became too heavy to hold in her trembling hands, she watched in terror as Asura Rai moved her fingers to the musket’s trigger guard.

“No! Don’t do it. Please don’t do it!” Akane screamed.

The blast of the musket in such close quarters was deafening. Gasping for air, Akane fell to the wooden floor and curled into a fetal ball. Her chest burned with an unbearable pain as if she had been shot point blank. It was an unceasing, stabbing sensation that rendered her powerless to move. Ears ringing from the blast, she was overcome with the powerful emotions of longing and sadness. She closed her eyes and embraced herself, longing to be in Kogami’s arms just as Asura Rai longed for Kurnan in her final moments on this Earth.

When Akane opened her eyes again, she found herself lying on the floor of an empty room. She felt as if she had been asleep for a long time. Her body was stiff and cold, despite Kogami’s jacket. Rubbing her chest to alleviate the remnants of pain from the encounter, she slowly sat up.

“He loves you,” said a voice. 

Akane scrambled across the room and put her back to the wall. She stared at the smiling apparition, and slowly, fear gave way to compassion. “Asura Rai?”

No longer bound or surrounded by soldiers, Asura stood before her with the same sad smile she had on her face moments before her death. She reached up to the crown of her head and pulled at the ribbon in her hair until it came loose. “Death is inevitable. Every rose withers, then dies, and fades away like dust, but never true love.” She brushed a stray hair from Akane’s face, and then tied the ribbon in her hair, weaving the elaborate love knot in the loose ends. “It’s like drowning in fire. It makes no sense, but it’s real. Remember that.”

Violently torn from its hinges, the bedroom door burst open as Kogami and Masaoka broke through it. In an instant, Asura was gone, but there was Kogami. Lips quivering, Akane stared up at him and she reached for his hand. “She was so alone. Alone in the dark with those awful soldiers. Kogami?” 

Kogami dropped to his knees and pulled her into his arms. He laid his head against hers and held her tightly as she sobbed, clutching at his jacket.

“She was so alone!”

“But you’re not, Akane.” Firmly holding her face in his hands, Kogami leaned over her.

“S-she just w-wanted to be with him, Kurnan, one l-last time.”

Kogami laid his forehead against hers, his face wet with her tears. “Then we’ll be together for them.” Keeping her close to him, the Enforcer picked her up in his arms and stood up. Still sobbing, she buried her face in the curve of his neck.

“Kogami, give Inspector Tsunemori to Enforcer Masaoka. We’ll take her back to the auditorium,” Ginoza ordered. 

Kogami bit his lip to prevent a vulgar slip of the tongue. He looked down at Akane’s trembling shoulders with a snarl on his lips and tightened his grip.

“That’s not negotiable,” Ginoza added, noting the Enforcer’s insubordinate expression. “You and Kagari need to finish clearing this floor.”

Kogami’s demeanor momentarily softened when he saw the red ribbon and the love knot in her hair. As her fingers softly caressed the back of his neck, he heard her whisper his name before wrapping her arms around his neck. Eyes defiant, Kogami glared at Ginoza and prepared to defy the order, but he was met by Masaoka.

“There now, missy.” Masaoka opened his arms to take Akane from Kogami. “Now’s not the time, Ko,” he whispered. “You and Kagari get the floor cleared. Get it done, and get back to her fast as you can. Alright?”

“We are the fastest hounds in the division,” Kagari said, “maybe even the MWPSB as a whole.”

Kogami refused to move. Masaoka had to pry her from his embrace while Yayoi and Kagari unwrapped her arms from his neck. He stood in quiet defiance, not wanting to be parted from her. Kogami clenched his teeth so tightly the bone cracked audibly in the stillness.

“We’ll be right beside her, Kogami,” Yayoi whispered. She put a hand on his shoulder as they finally pulled Akane away from him and moved back into the corridor. Kagari and he were alone in the empty room.

“Come on, Ko,” Kagari said. “Something tells me Gorou might have a go at us. That’s how it always happens in horror movies. Split the group and the ghost will strike. Let’s piss him off and give him a real target to keep him busy.”

Kogami picked up his Dominator from the floor along with Akane’s. Holstering her weapon at her back, he nodded to Kagari. He could feel Ginoza’s eyes on him and knew the Inspector was spurring him into a fight. Masaoka was right. This was not the time. He turned his back on the group and followed Kagari into the hallway.

## # # #

Kogami sprinted down the corridor as fast as he could run without taking the proper precautions to assure his safety. Kagari and he were on the scent, and their prey was within reach. There was no time for caution. He threw himself across the space into the adjoining hallway and landed on the opposite wall, training his Dominator on the emptiness in front of him. 

Breathing hard, Kagari slid across the wooden floor behind him with his Dominator out and ready for an invisible target, but there was no measurement or reading. “Shit! It went through another wall.”

“Did it double back?” Kogami asked breathlessly. Scowling at his bad luck, he wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

“I can’t tell. It just vanished. Again.” Refreshing the floor plan, he searched for any sign of the elusive hotspot they had encountered and chased it across the second floor of the theater.

Kogami massaged the bridge of his nose to relieve the sinus pressure building inside his head. He was frustrated and badly winded from the chase. Leaning against the wall to catch his breath, he unzipped his gray coat. He started sweating profusely. The perspiration was heavy enough to dampen the inside of the jacket. 

“Are you up for another shot?” Kogami asked.

“Are you kidding? This thing is really starting to piss me off,” Kagari replied. “I don’t care if it is a ghost. The two best runners in the MWPSB will not be outfoxed.”

Kogami brushed the damp, black forelock of hair from his eyes and took a deep breath. He was stalling for time to get himself together. The bruised welts on his torso were starting to hurt. The odd burning sensation caused his muscles to seize and spasm uncontrollably.

“I don’t understand this,” Kagari growled. “We had it. Kunizaka, is there anyway you can clean up the signal?”

“Range is the issue, Kagari. If the entity moves beyond it, the signal is lost,” she replied over the wristcom.

“It’s like...like it’s getting smarter. Purposely evading us.”

“That would make sense,” she said. “It is, after all, a sentient being.”

Ignoring the conversation behind him, Kogami pulled himself from the wall. He recognized the corridor that had been assigned to Akane and Masaoka. Walking down the hallway, he turned to the only opened door in sight. It was the room where Akane had encountered the apparition of Asura Rai. 

He extended his hand just inside the room and felt the temperature drop immediately on his skin. Looking down the hallway, Kagari did not seem to notice and was working through issues with Yayoi on his wristcom. They had been so focused on chasing down the hotspot that they had ignored any readings indicating the colder areas on the floor.

Kogami felt a subtle tug on his hand. It was not enough to pull him into the room, but it was enough to draw his attention and arouse his curiosity. Nostrils flared, he stepped through the threshold of cold and walked into the room. The chill was not an unpleasant sensation as it had been in the past. It felt like walking into a room through a draft into another.

The small bedroom was filled with a dawn glow as the first rays of the sun illuminated the room through the bay glass window. A woman that Kogami recognized from his vision was asleep in the bed, curled up on her side beneath the coverlets. Her long black hair was gracefully spread across the pillow, and her hands rested just beneath the chin of her peaceful face. A red ribbon trailed down her slender shoulders.

Sitting at the vanity between a pair of candles, Kurnan Kazuya was writing on parchment. Kogami felt as it he were staring at a mirror reflection of himself, except that the man before him was dressed in a black waistcoat with a double row of silver buttons and golden trim, doe-skin breeches, with a knot of gentleman’s lace at his throat. Kurnan finished the final line on the parchment and sat back in the chair with a grin. 

“I love it when you smile like that,” Asura whispered.

Kurnan looked up to see her watching him in the mirror. Rolling the parchment up in his hands, he went to the edge of the bed. With a smile, he brushed a strand of hair from her face and sat down beside her. Closing his eyes, he leaned over her and brought the long black strands of her hair to his face so that he could breathe in the sweet fragrance of wild roses. “I have something for you.”

The recognition in her eyes was evident, and she grasped his shoulder. “Kurnan, you finished it! Father will be so pleased.” She reached for the parchment, but he held it out of reach.

“I’m not worried about your father. I wrote this last song for you.”

“The sad one I hear you humming?”

“And tonight,” he said, kissing her tenderly, “when I return...” Kurnan kissed her forehead. “I will sing it for you.”

“Back to the Emperor’s road, Kurnan?”

The highwayman took her hand and kissed each knuckle. “One last time, my love.” 

“Promise?”

“My Lady, you have my solemn promise.” Kurnan raised her chin to steal another kiss, but hesitated. “Why do you frown?”

“Because you’re cruel! You’ve been teasing me for days. Even humming this mystery melody in your sleep. You can’t possibly leave me like this. Kurnan, please.” She wrapped her arms about his neck and refused to let go. 

“Until death, we are one breath apart,” he sang in her ear. “No matter the distance. I am with you.”

Recognizing the haunting melody that had been stuck in his head, Kogami gasped.

“Kurnan,” Asura Rai sighed.

“Watch for me by the moonlight.” He tapped the French-cocked hat onto his head and took his sword belt from the bed post. With a final wink, he left her alone in their bed.

As the apparition approached, Kogami wanted to move but found himself paralyzed and unable to do so. It did not appear that Kurnan was even remotely aware of him as a voyeur observing the final moments of their lives. The ghost harmlessly passed through him, leaving an odd tingling sensation that made Kogami shudder. With moonlight streaming through the window, the room went dark. 

_“Where do you go when you close your eyes?”_

A single gunshot reverberated between the close walls.

Stumbling back through the threshold of cold, Kogami staggered out of the room. He shivered uncontrollably and might have fallen to the floor had it not been for the wall to support him. He felt Kagari’s hands at his shoulder and arm. 

“Kogami, what the hell were doing in there?”

“The lost song,” Kogami whispered, “The lost song was written for her. Kurnan never had the chance to give to her.” Eyes brimming with tears, Kogami felt his throat constrict with emotion. The bruises on his torso seemed to ignite in flame with a searing pain so intense that it cut through him. Nearly rendered unconscious, he sank to the floor. Since the death of his friend and subordinate, Mitsuru Sasayama, he had never experienced such an emotional wound was excruciating as the loss suffered by the lovers.

_Asura Rai was dead._

_Kurnan snatched the balding man by his collar and threatened to beat him senseless for uttering the words, but the undeniable look of loss and dread in the barkeep’s eyes belied the truth. There was no denying it, and there would be no denying his retribution._

_The highwayman rode hard, whipping his horse with the reins as they galloped back down the road to the Kurouma Playhouse and Inn. His spurs were bloody, but he drove his stallion on at a wild, reckless pace._

_Within sight of the playhouse, he saw the soldiers gathered there on the path leading to the inn. Their presence was confirmation of the horrible news. Kurnan drew the rapier from its scabbard in one fluid motion and charged them as they fell to their muskets._

_There were five shots. Five sharp reports from the muskets. He heard each of them as if the muskets had been fired inches from his ears. The first two rounds hit him in the torso, and while they burned and smoked, he remained upright in the saddle. The final three struck him in the chest, narrowly missing his heart, but puncturing his lungs._

_Gasping for breath, he fell from the stirrups and landed on the cobblestones in front of the inn. Tears rolling from his eyes, he tried to sit up, but lacked the strength. His bloodied hands were empty, and he panicked, grasping for the saber that had fallen well beyond his reach. The sun was so bright that it blinded him. He blinked against the brilliance until the shadow of Asura’s father fell across him._

_Weeping without shame, Daiko Nagano fell to his knees at Kurnan’s side and agonized over the mortal wounds. Weakened by his sorrow, he dragged the rapier across the cobblestone road in his trembling hands. The blade clattered almost musically on the road, and then it went silent as Daiko laid it on the dying highwayman’s chest._

_Kurnan raised his head from the ground with difficulty. He wrapped Nagano’s fingers around the hilt of the saber and held fast even as his own fingers grew weak and cold. “Where do you go when you close your eyes? I go with you.” The light drained from his gray eyes, and he laid his head on the ground and died._

“Kogami!” Kagari frantically called. He was holding Kogami’s face in his hands. “Ko? Say something, dammit!”

Disoriented and feverish, Kogami fought for air and for clarity in a world of injustice and unfinished deeds. With his senses in complete disarray, he struggled to find which way was up and which was down. Holding on to Kagari’s arms, he pushed himself up from the floor and sat upright against the wall. There were droplets of blood on the floor and the backs of his hands. Panicked, he quickly unzipped his jacket to examine the bruises on his chest.

“It’s coming from your nose,” Kagari said. “Dammit, Ko! You scared me to death!”

Wiping the tears from his face and eyes, Kogami slowly stood up. He was not feeling steady and stayed close to the wall for support, even as Kagari held his arms. The look in the younger Enforcer’s eyes alarmed him, and he averted his gaze.

“Kogami, what happened? What did you see?”

“I’m not sure.” He looked down at his bloody hands. “I’m going to be sick.”

“There’s a restroom just around the corner.”

Leaving Kagari in the hallway, Kogami rushed into the restroom and ran to one of three stalls. Hunched over the toilet, he vomited so violently, that he saw stars in front of his eyes. When there was nothing left in his stomach, he fought through the final misery of dry heaves until the urge to retch ceased and the wave of nausea passed.

“Ko?” Kagari said from the door.

“I’m fine, Kagari. Just give me a minute.”

Kogami heard the door close quietly as Kagari retreated into the corridor. Swallowing the bitter taste of bile, he fought an instinctive gag reflex. Sweat dripped from his forehead and pooled on the toilet seat. 

_I’m losing my mind_. He wiped his mouth with toilet paper and threw the soiled bundle into the toilet and flushed it.

The room was spinning, so he hung onto the stall door for balance. After a moment to regain his composure, Kogami staggered to the sink and fumbled with the faucet. He was forced to pause and look at the unfamiliar reflection in the mirror. His face was smeared with blood and tears. Beads of sweat dotted his prominent forehead and cheeks. He was a sight and was grateful that Akane could not see him in that state.

Bending over the sink, Kogami splashed cold water over his face and gave his chin and cheeks a gentle scrub to wash away the smear of blood. He rinsed with a final splash before straightening his long frame. With the uncanny sense that someone was watching him, he stared into the mirror, but saw no one behind him. To satisfy his sense of suspicion, he glanced over his shoulder.

Kurnan Kazuya was standing behind him. He was dressed in a black waistcoat with lace bunched beneath his chin, which made his identity irrefutable. As Kogami reached for his Dominator, the highwayman pointed to the mirror behind him. “Stand to and draw sword, sir.”

Pivoting on one foot, Kogami turned back to face the mirror. The face he saw was not his and was just barely human. Contorted in a mask of rage and flame, Gorou shrieked at him. The noise was deafening and threatened to rob Kogami of his remaining sensibilities. 

With a blast of soot and fire, the mirror shattered into seven large fragments, which in turn exploded into smaller shards of glass. Kogami threw his arms up and closed his eyes to avoid being permanently blinded. He tried to step back, but it was too late. Gorou’s soot-covered face and two large, burly hands emerged amid the storm of glass and grabbed Kogami by the neck. 

The temperature in the room spiked sharply, and Kogami felt himself being suffocated by the intense heat. As he tried to bring his Dominator up for a shot, Gorou retreated back into the void behind the mirror. With a howl of maniacal laughter, the blacksmith smashed the Enforcer’s head and face into the broken mirror. Unable to get the shot, Kogami dropped the Dominator in the sink.

He locked his arms against the counter for leverage, but he could not pull free. Struggling to get free, Kogami managed to get a foot against the edge of the basin and pushed against it until the powerful hold on him finally broke. He scrambled on the floor, sliding and falling on the broken mirror shards. “Kagari, he’s here!” Kogami shouted. He grabbed his Dominator from the sink and ran for the door. “The blacksmith!”

“I saw the temperature surge,” Kagari replied. “I already called for back up.”

The Enforcers sprinted down the hallway to put some space between them and the entity, but they were overrun by a swirling black cloud of brimstone and burning ash. Kogami was lifted from his feet and snatched backwards into the corridor. Eyes wide in horror, he was as helpless as a rag doll while the ghost slammed him against the wall, drew him back, and slammed him into the opposite wall.

In life, Gorou had been a powerfully built man. Manifested there in front of Kogami, he stood well over six feet tall with heavily muscled arms and thick hands. He had Kogami by the throat and was choking him as he threw the Enforcer violently from one wall to the opposite.

Desperately, Kogami tried to pry the ghost’s hand loose, but touching the specter was like putting his hands in a kiln. He gasped in shock and pain. To keep his skull from being crushed, he threw his hands over his head. The unrelenting entity repeatedly threw him against the corridor walls, smashing glass pictures and paintings as Gorou tossed Kogami about with preternatural strength and velocity. 

Blood streaked the walls from Kogami’s nose and cuts on his face. The corridor could have a scene from the set of a horror film. Just on the edge of consciousness, Kogami was once more thrown across the hallway as invisible fingers tightened their hold on him and dug into the soft, fleshy folds of his neck. Struggling to breathe, he opened his mouth to gasp and felt the hot, sooty air vigorously trying to force its way down his throat. He coughed violently, a gag reflex, and as a desperate attempt to keep the putrid cloud from getting inside him.

“Kogami!” Akane screamed. She came running from around the corner with Masaoka right behind her.

Masaoka grabbed her by the waist and held her back. “Don’t think you should get any closer than that, missy.”

“It’s killing him! We can’t just stand here and watch!” Akane pointed her Dominator at Kogami. 

“ _Crime Coefficient over 600. Enforcement action required. Enforcement mode: Lethal Eliminator. The trigger safety is now released. Please aim carefully, and eliminate the target._ ” The Dominator vibrated and hummed in her hand as the weapon shifted its firing configuration.

“If I shoot, will the Dominator hurt Kogami?” Akane hesitated to fire.

“We can’t stand here pondering the consequences,” Ginoza said, coming up behind her. “This is our chance to destroy it.”

“Ginoza, no! You could kill Kogami!”

“We don’t have time for sentiment, Inspector Tsunemori.” He aimed his Dominator in Kogami’s direction. The weapon glowed a vibrant blue. Having read the crime coefficient and rendered judgement, it transformed from the unassuming .45 to the wicked profile of an executioner. Without any hesitation, Ginoza squeezed the trigger.

Kogami was abruptly thrown backwards by the impact of the Dominator’s bullet and fell to the wooden floor. He laid unmoving amid shattered glass and debris from the ruined walls. Even after a few minutes, he did not stir.

“Kogami!” Akane tried to run to him, but Masaoka held her firmly by the arm.

“Ko?” Kagari stared at the limp form, lying in the corridor.

“Kogami, no!” Akane screamed.

Coughing and gasping for air, the Enforcer stirred restlessly. He slowly rolled to his side and held a hand to his throat. With difficulty, he swallowed against the burning in the back of his throat and tried to speak.

“He’s alive,” Masaoka said in disbelief.

“Are you really you right now?” Nervously scratching his head, Kagari turned to his colleagues. “There was nothing in that video game about exorcisms.”

Akane pulled free from Masaoka and ran to Kogami’s side. “Kogami, say something.”

Hand still at his throat, Kogami closed his eyes. “I really need a cigarette right now.” He laid his head on the floor and groaned. Akane leaned over him and brushed the hair from his face.

“How are you not dead?” Kagari asked in shock. “How are you not pink sludge on the wall? The Dominator was in lethal eliminator mode.”

“Inspector Ginoza?” Masaoka said. He watched the distraught Inspector walk into the adjoining hallway. “Nobuchika?”

Kogami sat up, propped on his elbows, and then stiffly got to his feet with Akane’s help. “Gino?” He followed Inspector Ginoza into the corridor, noting the ghostly paleness of his skin and the the distant, blank expression on his face. The 1000-yard stare in his eyes was clear evidence of traumatic shock. “Gino?”

Ginoza’s hands were shaking so badly that the Dominator rattled in his grasp. Kogami walked up to him and gently took the weapon from his hands. He slipped the gun into the holster at Ginoza’s back. “Were you trying to kill me?”

“I considered it,” Ginoza whispered. He took a deep shuddering breath, and lips quivering, he exhaled slowly. “I figured the Dominator would register the entity, at least enough to trigger lethal eliminator mode, so that it could be destroyed. I didn’t consider what it would do to you. I couldn’t be certain. Nor could I risk losing our chance.”

“You two good?” Masaoka asked. He peered around the corner, while Kagari and Akane looked anxiously over his shoulder.

Ignoring them, Ginoza turned to Yayoi. “Kunizaka, report.”

“We’re out of range of the tablet in the main auditorium,” she replied, “but it appears that one of the three temperature anomalies is gone. Completely dissipated. The Dominator seems to have successfully destroyed it, but there’s no way to be truly certain.”

“Good, then we should be able to run down the other two.”

“Why?” Akane protested. “They weren’t the ones who attacked us.”

“And how can you be sure of that, Inspector Tsunemori?”

“Because every time there was an attack, the temperature went up,” she answered. “Any visions or sightings were accompanied with cold.”

“That’s true,” Yayoi said. “The hot temperature spikes were also accompanied by brimstone, as evidenced by the burns you suffered, Inspector Ginoza.”

“They don’t deserve to be destroyed,” Akane said.

Yayoi shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. “The Dominators would be of a little effect against them any way. According to Inspector Tsunemori, the other entities have...for lack of a better diagnosis, regulation psycho passes. The triggers will not unlock.”

“Something has to be keeping them earthbound,” Kagari said.

“If we can find what that is,” Masaoka said, “we can release them.”

“So be it,” Ginoza said. “We’re looking for some overlooked artifact from the theater’s history. Back into teams of two. Do what’s necessary to find it. Tear this place apart.”


	5. ACT 5

In a back corridor on the east side of the theater, Kagari hopped down a series of three, wide stairs to the next landing above a much longer staircase, which led farther down into a basement annex beside the stage. Having previously investigated this section of the theater for human stragglers, he was familiar with the corridor and the row of vending machines tucked away in a shadowy side passage.

Hands pressed against the glass, he looked over the sweets and tried to decide what was more appealing to him. His stomach grumbled in anticipation. Unable to make up his mind, he peered closer as if proximity might assist his choice. “Can’t believe the Inspectors took the easy job of going through the preserved relics and sent the rest of us on a wild goose hunt,” he complained on a secured channel.

“That’s what hounds are for,” Kogami replied. “I doubt they’ll find anything. Someone would have noticed before those antiques were put in their display cases.” 

“Makes sense, but this is like looking for a needle in a hay field. Forget the stack.”

“Kagari, I meant to ask you. That video game you played: _Silent Redemption?_ How did it end?”

“Wasn’t easy, let me tell you. I’m not one of those gamers who races through the quest content as fast as possible, just so I can finish the damn game. I’m a devoted completionist,” he boasted. “If there’s a side quest that pops up, I’m on it.”

“I don’t need a strategy guide,” Kogami complained. “Did you ever finish it?”

“Hell yeah, I finished it. Once you knew what you needed to find in order to get your revenge, all you had to do was guide the living to the item to unlock the clue. Once you had all the items and the clues, justice was swift; revenge was sweet; and redemption was had. No more earthbound spirit. It was time to head into the light.” 

“Now that Gorou isn’t here to hinder them, you’d think Asura Rai or Kazuya would have led us to whatever it is holding them here.”

“Maybe they have, and we just weren’t listening. It’s very frustrating trying to get the living to understand your needs without scaring them away entirely. That’s what made the game so challenging.” His eyes widened in delight. “Ah, strawberry pocky—you are all mine!” He put his money into the coin slot.

“Are there any chocolate ones?”

“Yeah, want some?”

“Not for me. Akane must be starving. The call for this case came in at what? Midmorning? I wasn’t paying attention at the time.”

Kagari laughed at Kogami’s subtle joke about being semi-unconscious in the medical bay. At Ginoza’s insistence, the team physician had to use stimulants to bring him around to reality. Tucking the candy boxes in his pocket, he returned to the main corridor with a stick of pocky in his mouth and trotted down the final staircase to a back exit, but the security gate was down. 

“Still not getting out through there. This whole nightmare is like being stuck in a video game where you have to beat all 100 levels before you can wake up and go home. _Tsk_!”

Grumbling under his breath, Kagari ran back up the steps to the landing. A young woman with black hair and dressed in a white gown ran passed him. She smiled pleasantly at the startled Enforcer and continued down the flight into the lower corridor. A chill followed after her, and Kagari could see his breath as a mist in the frigid air.

“Ko?” 

There was no answer. 

As he turned to follow her, Kagari tapped his wristcom. “Kogami?” 

Still, there was no answer.

Kagari opened communication to all channels. “Can anybody hear me? I think I’m about to have a close encounter of the paranormal kind.” He slowly started back down the stairs. “I should have taken that bathroom break when Ginoza suggested it. How embarrassing would it be if I wet my pants?”

Drawing his Dominator, Kagari descended the stairs into the exit corridor. It was a dead end, but there was no one, no apparition there. He brought up the floor diagram and switched to the temperature filter. He was standing directly inside the vortex of a mass of cold air.

“Well, isn’t that my dumb luck,” he whispered, chewing at his pocky. Head turned over his shoulder to watch the corridor behind him, he unholstered his Dominator and returned to the steps to make his way back up the stairs to the landing. 

When he turned to look where he was going, Asura Rai was standing nose to nose with him. She smiled and gently tapped him on the nose.

With a scream that was an octave higher than his pride thought possible, Kagari fell backwards. He was fully airborne, four feet up, hands and feet flailing in the air as he hit the carpeted floor. The fall knocked the wind out of him. “Hide and seek with a ghost? How unfair is that?”

Kagari sat up and saw the pocky box sitting between his legs. As he reached for them, the floor creaked beneath him. “Oh, don’t tell me!” It buckled under his weight, and he fell another seven feet to the dirt floor below. 

With the wind knocked out of him for a second time, he gasped to catch his breath as he rolled in pain. Narrowly missing his head, his Dominator fell through the trapdoor behind him. He reached for the weapon and quickly waved it back and forth in the darkness, but the Dominator indicated no presences.

“Kagari!” Kogami yelled from above him.

“Get some light down here. I don’t see any obvious power sources.” Kagari groaned as he slowly sat up and crossed his legs.

“Gino,” Kogami said, “Kagari found some sort of hidden room. Bring lights and a ladder.” Kogami put his Dominator in its holster and jumped down through the trapdoor to check on Kagari. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, but my pocky isn’t,” he said. The opened box had dumped its contents on the dirt floor beneath him.

Taking out his flashlight, Kogami slowly surveyed the room. He coughed, his throat aggravated by the dust that had been disturbed by their intrusion.

“Thanks,” Kagari said, as Kogami offered a hand to get him on his feet. Taking out his own flashlight, he scanned the darkness. A painted white face abruptly appeared in the light and frightened him. With a scream, he stumbled back onto the debris from the floor and tripped over Kogami. Both men fell to the floor in a tangled heap.

Kogami trained the Dominator and his flashlight on the elaborate costume swinging ominously from a hook attached to the low ceiling. “You have something against kabuki masks?”

“They remind me of clowns,” Kagari whispered. 

“You’re afraid of clowns?”

“Isn’t everybody!” Brushing the dust from his pants, he got to his feet. “So much for Akane’s pocky.” He shook the crushed box and tossed into a dark corner.

“Kogami! Kagari!” Akane shouted from the trap door. “Are you alright?”

“We’re good,” Kogami replied. “Just blind. And might need a clean set of pants.”

“What!” Kagari quickly checked himself to see if he had accidentally wet himself in the fall and subsequent scare. Finding everything in order, he glared at Kogami for the rude comment. “I really hate you sometimes.”

“Hate is such a strong word, Kagari.” Kogami pushed the kabuki mask and costume from side to side to agitate the younger man.

“Kogami.” Akane appeared at the trapdoor and handed a lamp to him through the opening. She handed another to Kagari. “Yayoi took these from the stage. That should be more than enough light.” Turning around, she put one foot into the emptiness and got down on one knee.

“What are you doing?” Kogami asked.

“Giving us a nice view,” Kagari said. He turned the light on and stared up her skirt.

“Kagari, you’re incorrigible.” Akane struggled to balance on the edge of the opening. “What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m coming down there with you.”

“Don’t you think it would be a good idea to let us clear the room first?” Kogami positioned himself beneath her.

“If nothing’s jumped out at you by now,” she reasoned, “I think we’re safe.” She gasped in surprised as she felt his hands on her thighs. The Enforcer carefully positioned her on his shoulder. “Kogami, be careful. Your back?”

“It’s not like your falling on top of me this time,” he replied. “Just don’t move around too much.”

Akane held onto his neck as he brought her safely to the ground. She frowned when he winced in pain and cautiously arced his back in response to the sudden muscle spasms. While he massaged the muscles in the small of his back, she gently ran her fingers over the cuts on his face. “I’m going to see to it that you get a well deserved vacation for this.”

“On a beach. At night. Under fireworks?”

Akane blushed even as she smiled. She gently tugged at his tie. “I’ll see what I can arrange.”

“Hey, you two. Get a room,” Kagari said. He set up the lights and turned them on, directing the illumination into opposite corners of the ceiling. “Have a look at this.”

“Looks like the original basement.” Kogami examined the wall and rubbed his hand across the black scoring that marred the top of the stone and mortar foundation. “Scorch marks from the fire that Gorou set?”

“This must have been where they stored their costumes,” Akane said, looking over the racks of dully colored gowns, elaborate apparel, and accessories.

“This room is not on any of the floor plans,” Yayoi said. After coming down the ladder, she stepped aside and held it securely for Masaoka. “I doubt Director Nagano even knew it was here.”

“Like finding a treasure trove in a sunken ship at the bottom of the ocean,” Masaoka said.

“This cellar is in an almost perfect state of preservation.” Yayoi carefully thumbed through a leather-bound journal stacked on a pile of wooden crates.

“Find anything interesting?” Kagari asked. He was juggling a set of colorful balls that he had found on a shelf. Occasionally tossing one beneath his leg, he grinned until Kogami intentionally bumped into him, and he dropped them.

“The original theater director, Daiko Nagano, kept meticulous notes on anything that had to do with the Kurouma Theatre, or the Kurouma Inn and Playhouse, as it was known back then. He even saved newspaper clippings and bulletins from the era. These last entries are intriguing.” 

“What do they say?” Ginoza asked. “Any clues on how to end this?”

“Nagano documents what happened to his daughter and Kazuya after their deaths.” She glanced up from the journal with a doleful expression. “The Emperor’s men were not kind. Kazuya’s body was hung on a wagon and paraded through the village as an example of what happens when you dare to steal the Emperor’s gold or kill his soldiers.”

“Go on,” Ginoza said when she paused.

“As punishment for harboring a criminal, Nagano was denied the right to bury his daughter. The bodies were loaded onto the wagon and taken from town. The villagers helped Nagano search for them, but he suspected they were buried in a mass grave that was left unmarked and unconsecrated.”

“Well, that’s not going to help us,” Ginoza said.

“Yeah, but this might. Kogami, give me a hand here.” Masaoka moved aside some old boards and building materials. He gently picked up the corner of a dusty sheet and shook the white cloth as he pulled it from over the object it covered.

“Looks like a family altar,” Kogami replied. “What do you have in mind, pops?”

“It’s a _butsudan_. Unusual to find it here, as they are usually passed down from one generation to the next. If the Nagano clan was so into preserving artifacts, you’d think this would have gotten a place of honor along with the other historical relics.”

“Not if they didn’t know it was here,” Kogami said. 

“That’s my point. Daiko Nagano was denied the right to bury his daughter,” Masaoka said, “and the man responsible for putting his theater on the map. So he did the next best thing.” Reverently, Masaoka opened the doors of the altar and removed two small leather satchels.

“What are those?” Kagari asked in wonderment.

“Pilgrim bags, usually placed with the deceased to help them on their journey to the afterlife.” Masaoka handed one of the bags to Kogami.

Kogami carefully opened the beaded bag and removed a lock of long black hair and a bamboo wedding ring that were bound together by a leather cord. He looked over to Masaoka who held a shorter lock of black hair and a matching, more masculine style of the ring. “They weren’t just lovers, they were married.”

“There’s a marriage certificate in the back of this journal to confirm it,” Yayoi said. She tilted the journal up to show them.

“They were married in secret,” Akane said, “and didn’t wear their rings to keep the fact hidden. No wonder Gorou thought he had a chance.”

“Kagari, how did you find this place?” Yayoi asked.

“I literally stumbled on to it,” Kagari said, laughing. “Asura Rai led me right to it.”

“This is what we’ve been looking for, folks,” Masaoka said. “A way to put this case and the ghosts to rest forever.” He turned to them with a smile. “We need to hold a funeral.”

Ginoza’s eyes narrowed sharply, his fury evident as he shoved the glasses sternly up the bridge of his nose. “And how exactly do you plan to have a funeral while we’re trapped here in this theater?”

“Everything we need to do the rite is already here, Inspector. What can it hurt to give it a try?”

Ginoza sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes before he climbed the ladder out of the cellar. “We have nothing else, so get on with it.”

“Kogami and Kagari, you take the _butsudan_ to the stage. Inspector Tsunemori and Yayoi, there’s a few items I need you to help me collect. With any luck, this will all be over in less than an hour.”

## # # #

Masaoka set up the ceremonial shrine on the stage and covered the back of it with a white sheet. The rest of Division 1 were busy scouring the theater to find the appropriate items to help complete the _butsudan’s_ re-enshrinement in preparation for the funerary ritual. 

Akane brought a vase of red roses and water from one of the dressing rooms. Remaining in pairs for safety, Yayoi went with her and picked up a supply of candles, their holders, and incense.

Ginoza returned from the theater’s small kitchen with a freshly cooked bowl of rice and a pair of chopsticks. “Want to explain what this is for? Do ghosts eat?”

“You were raised better than that, Inspector,” Masaoka said with a smirk. He took the steaming rice and placed the chopsticks upright in the bowl. “There’s a reason people don’t do this in their homes. It’s bad luck. But to the dead, it is a sign from the living that their time has passed and that it’s time to move on.” Taking a warm cup of sake from Kogami, he placed it in front of the shrine beside the rice. “Good work, Ko.”

“We’re doing all of this to repay a debt,” Yayoi said. “By respecting the memories of the dead and all they did while they were alive, we may be able to send them to their final rest. Mr. Masaoka, we’re ready.”

“Do you know what you’re doing, pops?” Kagari asked.

“When you get to be my age, Kagari, you’ll have been to enough funerals to know the ropes.” He pulled the white sheet down over the altar.

“We just spent all that time getting it ready,” Kagari complained. “You’re going to just cover it up?”

“The sheet keeps out impure spirits.” He laid the utility knife on top of of the sheet. “This will guard against evil ones.” Masaoka pulled a bracelet of _ojuzu_ beads from his wrist. “Now to begin. The first rite is Water of the Last Moment, where the lips of the deceased are moistened.”

“Without the bodies, how do you possibly hope to accomplish that?” Ginoza said.

Masaoka turned to Kogami and Akane. “Our ghosts seem rather attracted to you two. Care to do the honors?”

Kogami frowned. “What hell does that mean, pops?”

“A kiss, you idiot,” Kagari said, “and not just a peck on the cheek either.”

Kogami bristled aggressively until he saw the coy smile that came to Akane’s face. He resigned himself to do whatever she asked of him. For appearances, he pretended to resist the idea. After the abuse suffered over the course of the last 48 hours, a single kiss from her was payment enough. She took his hand and led him to the front of the shrine.

“You look nervous, Mr. Kogami.” Akane held onto the collar of his jacket with both hands to keep him from escaping.

Bowing his head in resignation, Kogami cut his eyes in the direction of their colleagues who were watching them. “You sure about this?”

“I’m sure.” Akane put her hand on his face to block them out. “Remember that night on the beach in Los Angeles?” she whispered. “We never got to finish what we started.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

Aroused by the touch of her lips, Kogami felt his back stiffen. He resisted at first, but there was no denying Akane’s warmth or his feelings for her. Keeping his hands at his sides, he leaned into her and enjoyed the scent of her and the taste of her lips. The warmth of her breath on his face was intoxicating.

“Wow!” Kagari said as the two parted. “Wo-wow!” He went silent, his mouth gaping in a round o-shape as Kogami snatched the Dominator from its holster and pointed it at him. 

“ _Crime Coefficient over 200. Target is a registered Inspector. Status: Enforce at will. The trigger safety is now released. Aim calmly and subdue the target_.”

“One more syllable, if you even grunt, I will shoot you.”

“Kogami!” Akane pulled his arm down and took the Dominator from him. Her tone was stern, but the smile on her face betrayed her genuine feelings. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

“That’s enough of that.” Masaoka handed Kogami and Akane the pilgrim bags. “Given the circumstances, I think the two of you should do the honors. This isn’t the usual ritual, but we’re in an unusual situation.”

“What are we supposed to do, Mr. Masaoka?” Akane asked. “Burn them?”

“That’s right, missy. Need your lighter, Ko. Light the pilgrim bags and place them in this urn.”

Kogami retrieved the lighter from his pocket and lit one corner of the pilgrim bag. Satisfied that it would continue to burn, he dropped it into the urn and then gave the lighter to Akane. She lit the corner of her bag and dropped it in the urn with the other. Flames rose from the ceramic urn as the small fire consumed the items.

“Compassionate Ones, let not the force of your compassion be weak, but aid them.” Masaoka respectfully took the urn back to the altar and set it down in front of it. “Let these spirits not go on in this miserable state of existence. Forget not your ancient vows.”

Bowing deeply in respect, Masaoka pulled the whiskey flask from his breast pocket and placed it in front of the urn. With a final bow, he walked to the side of the stage and motioned for the others to follow his example.

“I was saving these for later,” Kagari groused. Yayoi gave him a shove, and he reluctantly put a small bag of candy gummies beside the urn and bowed.

Yayoi bowed and placed a crystalline bottle of pink nail polish beside the candy. Following behind her, Ginoza bowed respectfully and placed 12 coins on the floor before the altar.

Akane reached for the ribbon in her hair. Reluctantly undoing the intricate love knot, she wrapped it around her fingers and placed it at the base of the urn with a solemn bow. 

“Asura Rai spoke to me when she gave me her ribbon,” Akane said. “Do you want to know what she said?” Tears shining in her eyes, she turned to face Kogami. “Death is inevitable. Every rose withers, then dies and fades away like dust, but never true love. She said true love was like drowning in fire.” Wiping a tear from her face, Akane looked away from him. “She’s right.”

Akane lightly brushed against him as she walked by to join the others. Kogami knelt down and surveyed the gifts given in tribute to the dead lovers. He looked at the lighter in his hand, and quietly placed it among the offerings. Standing up, he bowed in respect for a love cut too short. Hands in his pockets, he joined his colleagues on the side of the stage.

The members of Division 1 stood in silence for several minutes. Looking between the shrine on the stage and the security gate in the back of the auditorium, they waited for some sign of success.

“So what happens now?” Ginoza asked.

“Isn’t there supposed to be some flash of light or a gust of wind?” Kagari looked around the auditorium for some noticeable difference in the theater, but found none. 

“Kunizaka, a report.”

“There’re still here,” Yayoi said. “Or so these temperature radiants suggest. They’re right here on stage with us. Both vortexes are centered on the shrine.”

“Well, that was a complete waste of our time,” Ginoza complained. “Get back out there. We’ve evidently missed something. Something important. Find it.”

_“Where do you go when you close your eyes?”_

“Kogami?” Akane tugged at his sleeve. “You have a strange look on your face.”

“Remember when Director Nagano mentioned something about a lost song? Kazuya did write one last song, a song for Asura Rai, that would have completed his play. He was supposed to give it to her the night that she died.”

“Now that’s what I call unfinished business,” Kagari said. “If we can find that song, we can end this and send them to their final rest.”

The ear-splitting report of a musket fire erupted in Kogami’s head. Reeling from the psychic blast, he fell to his knees. Hands grasping at his head, he writhed in agony on the stage floor. The bruises on his chest burned as if the wounds were freshly sustained from the bullets that took Kazuya’s life that fateful day on the road.

“Kogami!” Akane cried frantically. “What’s wrong?”

The pain slowly subsided, but Kogami remained doubled over on the stage. On his hands and knees, head bowed to the floor, he could see and hear the last moments of Kazuya’s life replayed before him. The gunshots. The fall from the galloping horse. Asura Rai’s father at his side. The desperate need to fulfill a promise. 

“Kagari, you are a genius,” Kogami said.

“I am?”

“Asura Rai led you to the cellar, but not because she or Kazuya needed a proper funeral. It was a clue to lead us to what they really need to cross over.”

“If it wasn’t a proper funeral, Ko? Then what do they want?” Masaoka asked.

Kogami met the older Enforcer’s eyes and those of his colleagues. “Kazuya tried to show it to me, but I wasn’t listening. I didn’t understand at the time.”

“Was that the sign that nearly killed you when you fell off the piano platform?” Ginoza sneered.

“That was to get my attention.”

“What was Kazuya trying to reveal to you?” Akane asked.

“The sword,” Kogami whispered. Unsteadily, he got to his feet, ignoring Akane’s commands to be still and Ginoza’s inquiries for an explanation, and made his way to the back of the auditorium into Nagano’s office where it all began. 

Unzipping his jacket, Kogami shrugged out of it and wrapped the thick fabric around his fist for protection. He hesitated in front the display case housing Kazuya’s rapier and recalled how the blade rattled against the glass just before Gorou attacked Akane in the auditorium. The manifestation was both a sign of what needed to be done and a warning. Focusing his strength, he punched the glass. It cracked audibly, but held against him.

“Kogami, what are you doing?” Akane demanded.

Kogami slammed his fist into the case again, this time leaning into the punch. The glass began to fragment. “The answer to this ghost story was here the entire time.” He continued to strike the case until the glass shattered. 

Using the protection of his jacket, he ripped out the jagged fragments until he had access to the rapier. He retrieved the sword from the ruined display case and examined the blade. The tarnish near the hilt slowly disintegrated beneath his fingers and revealed the etching beneath: _Where do you go when you close your eyes?_

Turning his attention to the hilt, Kogami laid the rapier on Nagano’s desk. He used a letter opener to tear at the ornate padding around the hilt. Though aged, it did not readily give, and he was forced to apply more pressure until the fabric tore and came loose in his hands. Carefully unwrapping it, he rubbed his fingers over the exposed metal tang. 

Showing the engraved phrase to Akane, Kogami read the line on the blade, “Where do you go when you close your eyes?” He pointed to the etching on the tang. “I go with you.”

“What does it mean, Kogami?” Akane asked, as their colleagues joined them.

“You wanted to know what song has been running through my head. This whole time it was Kazuya’s lost song. The one he wrote just for her.” 

Turning his attention to the ruined padding of the hilt, Kogami gently unrolled the weathered sheepskin and the fragile vellum preserved beneath it. He opened it and found the complete score of handwritten music and lyrics that Kazuya had written on the day of Asura Rai’s death. 

Akane read the title, “ _One Breath Apart_? It’s as if he knew what was going to happen to them.”

“This completes his musical—”

Outside in the auditorium the distinct sound of the security gate retracting into the ceiling reverberated throughout the chamber. “You did it, Ko!” Kagari yelled.

Yayoi’s lips showed the faintest hint of a smile as she checked the floor diagram from the first to the third floors of the theater. “Temperatures are normalizing throughout the theater. There are no pockets of excessive heat or extreme cold. No variations outside of a five-degree differential. Nice work, Kogami.”

“Outside, everyone!” Ginoza ordered. “Before these so-called phantoms change their minds.”

Kogami watched his colleagues eagerly fleeing the confines of the auditorium, but he felt no need to escape. Akane remained at his side, and he thought to tell her to leave with the others. Before he could say anything, she took his hand and smiled up at him as she laid her head against his shoulder. 

Together, hand in hand, they walked down to the front of the auditorium, over bits of broken glass and quartz, to the piano platform. Kogami laid the vellum on the piano and sat down with Akane beside him. Looking at the music, he read the notes, but knew them by heart. He hummed the melody as his fingers moved effortlessly over the keys.

_One Breath Apart_ was a defiant requiem to a love that death could not sever. Above the notes, he could hear Kazuya’s voice: “ _Where do you go when you close yours eyes? Are you dreaming of me, while I stay behind? Lost in you, I am not afraid; but I cannot rise and fly on my scorched and broken wings, not without you._ ” 

Kogami felt Akane’s hot tears falling on his shoulder, penetrating the fabric of his shirt.

“ _Until death, we are one breath apart. No matter the distance. Can you feel my breath on your face as I kiss you from a distant lonely place. Where do you go when you close your eyes? Wherever you go...I go with you.”_

“So it’s true,” Nagano said from the center aisle. “When Inspector Ginoza told me that you had found the lost song, I didn’t believe it.”

“Director Nagano?” Akane hurriedly tried to dry the tears in her eyes.

“Please, Inspector Tsunemori, there is no more appropriate place for tears than here in this theater, especially given its history.” He handed her a handkerchief with his initials monogrammed on the corner. “When my security alarms went off, I was alerted some hours ago. But for reasons I am only now beginning to understand, we could not get into the building. So I called the MWPSB. The street outside looks like a war zone. You’ve had quite the adventure, and I say that I am envious.”

“Don’t be,” Kogami said. “It was an adventure, and I’ve got the scars to prove it.” He pointed to his face. Holding Akane’s hand as they stepped down from the platform, Kogami carefully handed the parchment to the director, who stood awestruck. “You’ll be wanting this.”

Nagano hesitated, hands trembling, and took the parchment from him. “Do you know what this find is worth?”

“To the man who wrote it and the woman he loved? There’s no measurable price. Preserve it with the others. Now you can finally share Kazuya’s play with the generations. The Kurouma Theatre curse is broken.”

“There’s also a hidden room in the back that’s virtually untouched from the time when the theater was an inn,” Akane said. “Who knows what other treasures might be uncovered.”

“My family, both past and future, are deeply in your debt, Mr. Kogami.” Nagano bowed in the greatest posture of respect. 

Akane’s wristcom alerted her to an incoming message. “Tsunemori.”

“Inspector,” Ginoza said, “I could use your help out here coordinating the scene.”

“Right! On my way!” Akane quickly bowed to Nagano. “I wish you well with the production, Director Nagano.” She hurried to the back of the auditorium. Kogami thought he heard her sneezing in the foyer.

“It’s taboo to speak of luck in the theater business,” Nagano said. “So I will call this sudden turn of events a good break.” He smiled at Kogami’s confusion. “I made a few calls about your offer to stand in until I can find a replacement for my pianist. When Mr. Kurosawa heard your name and that I wanted you to play for the production, he was delighted and volunteered to make the necessary calls personally. You have powerful friends, Mr. Kogami, and now you have another.” He offered his hand in friendship.

“Good to know,” Kogami replied awkwardly, accepting his handshake.

“Over dinner, my treat of course, you must regale me with the events of this evening.” Nagano’s voice was cracked and quivered slightly with emotion. “You are forever a part of this company, now, all of you, and you will never find the door closed.”

Kogami left Nagano at the piano. The delicate notes of Kazuya’s song could be heard softly played by the man until he was overcome with emotion and could play no longer. In the empty shell of the auditorium, the melody echoed through the room, but there was no audience to hear it. Asura Rai and Kurnan Kazuya were no longer present. When Kogami left, closing the door behind him, Nagano was truly all alone.

It was raining outside. The buildings and sidewalks were glistening. Kogami turned his face to the sky and let the cold rain run over his face. His sinuses were clear for the first time in hours, and he took a deep breath, savoring the pungent scent of the rain. It soaked through his shirt, which clung to his skin, but he didn’t mind. After the night’s experience, he had a much deeper appreciation for life, even as a latent criminal.

Nagano was right to describe the scene outside the theater as a war zone. Fire trucks and a dozen other emergency vehicles from the city authority and the MWPSB were on scene. Red and blue lights flashed intermittently with an intensity that was magnified by the rain. In the chaos, he saw Kagari, Masaoka, and Kunizaka coordinating the drones to set up a perimeter.

“Kogami!” Ginoza said. “We’re all good here. Use my car and take Inspector Tsunemori back to headquarters.”

“What’s wrong with Akane?”

“Seems she’s coming down with a cold.” Ginoza glared at him, shoving his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I hope that’s all you’ve given her. I’d hate to see her follow you down that dark path. Check her into medical and schedule yourself for a re-evaluation.”

Kogami saluted half-heartedly and made his way to the car that was parked in front of the paddy wagon. He opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat. Akane sat across from him, her head resting against the headrest. In the dimness, he could see the faintest sheen of perspiration shining on her skin. Her cheeks were flushed, and the tip of her nose was a brilliant red. He draped his jacket over her and reached for the seat belt to secure her for the drive to headquarters.

She stirred restlessly. “Kogami?”

The Enforcer leaned over her and softly kissed her forehead. “Where do you go when you close your eyes?” he whispered.

Akane smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. “I go with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on the ballad ‘The Highwayman’ by Alfred Noyes.


End file.
